







* 

v* v t> «sa -<i u . r y -ssj , \ S -ft 

* A S S ‘ p R y 0 « \ ^ ^0. <* . V 4 * ft S ' \' X . , fi X. ' 0 * 

,/ w % c o* ^ xvvv 


a V 


.0 o 



'o o 

V JC* *■ 

^ “ X •%- 

,.., %. ^Vso’ / V **»'.'*' <.0 

<* *P± r a * 

-<» <<* • .v» /\s-~ • r\ o 

-<n AV ■*• **' /Li 






10 x 

<=> * •► x o ’ v V 

' // c> v 



<<• * 

v> .-^ 

o * k ” <0 r s 'f , s t «\ 

,.<r c«vs;% “ A * s v « v,, « v o. 
c ■*-«*-■'* -V <j* **■£%$* , 

*P/. v» *• Jki {}//&>?„ . -S' -,\ 



,0o. 


V 


„0 



fw " X % 'X 

^ / 4 ' S J 

c> 


o o 


c 0\. 


V , V v *\* A ->. r$. 

» « i i * A . , , , i- " 3 x o ’ ^>, »m* C . 

O s r // C‘ V • * ^ * 0 / > . O k s v 

4 <"& ^ - k ^ , ?- <j c., « . 

4 * 4 A ■<& * ■%, A 



' >* 






V c. 


* * ' ' ,*s ' . v i » > %/ 0 * 1 ,/' t o ft c ; , <^_; '.*' '^ x ,vi. X\‘ ' ° 


V A 

s A 


*N v. . ' V \ PJ f^t ’ 





t ^ 0° » 

y °^’ : ^ 
X ^ vX 


wT 

O ^ v ' •" Vj 

2 a * , s P 5 ^ 



' * . '«!* 


FX* V N S 


y. 

AxV'^r, y 

<0 ^ ^ 1 



* •</ A x ' 

</> \ V 




V* %*. 



%\ '%$' 


° 


™ ___ 'A' <>* 

s v 

^ ** , «, S <\ 

0 ^ 0 * ^ * * . \ \ I « , 

« ® o°\-'.,-. ^^ A< * > 

* ■’o 0 x : ■ ,.. ?-H^ ' *«*• v ; 

\° ®* *- V-^: v s 


C* ✓ 

O «y , , A ? 
^ o N 0 


~ f- <\ N •» ^X^^v!/'' 

<f>. c v VW 

y 0 « *. * v H 

*, ©, r 0 <.” 1 . % .*** 

fe * 


$00 * y <?• v x "-® 

> -A C. N ✓ '•> . \ 


* > 

,* ' .0 

s * 9 I 

<V ' , '/, C‘ 

<pv 7 ^ * 

U? • 

, 7 ' 'V ° w# 1 * 7 y 

•v ^ ",V i i / 

^ ** , < s A y o ^ v ^ ,0 

,o" < oNC * 


^ y 



C ‘V * - r<? ^ *■ <S ‘ . . 

^ A : iCW" y 

> ♦ M 1 .v y ^ 

I \ /0,xi /\° vc ^ ' **' ^ ‘ v ' # 

0° .* + 

- ’o q \ e ■ '* * a y 

r X 0 7 - 

y v> 

^ v v 0 <"-. y 

. ^ ,0 ^ *• - * 




y 0 « 

^ , 



0 ° 

' c° 

4 

-< 

"bo x 

"S r 

> 


■ 7 , 



V * 


\ * o 



<P, ^ 

. * o . ^ 0 n 0 ’ 

v0 v s ^ ' ft C‘ V o > • 0 7 ^ . 

.p. ,V A- > 1 * '^->\ \ ' ! & V, r ■’ ‘V. .p ,v 

,„ *h yi' **<? :A^*\ * 

* / .' / / ’) js vs . < 7 \\ >y F/ / 




^ *,SM& * V ^ oV »■ y ^ ‘V -y; 

^ ** l * s S <A y o * K * .6 <* -V . WJ X, 

'"*. “ ..*•*« ^ b - f o c ° N '-» %. «'"* 

' A. a 7 *m}^* . 0 ^ a x -Vw 

• y - c '- aav , x - a ? ~ 


>> 0 °<. 



s ' • , .° tP.* 0 s ° ' v > 


> ^ ^ * 

’* 'V 7 



.0 0 , 



\ * 0 


\V ^ ^ \ \}. ’ A 

- 4 ^ V- " ,'•' > , 




nr ,7 . * , . /■ • '» s 0 

\ v '>* ' // C* 










The Princess of the School 




















































































The 

Princess of the School 


BY 

ANGELA BRAZIL 

w 

Illustrated by Frank Wiles 




NEW YORK 


FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 



Copyright , 1920 , by 

Frederick A. Stokes Company 

All rights reserved 



SEP -9 192! 

First published in the United States 
of America , 1921 


§)CI. A624233 




Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 


I 

The Ingleton Family 






i 

II 

A Stolen Joy-ride 






15 

III 

A Valentine Party . 






33 

IV 

Disinherited . 






50 

V 

The New Owner 






61 

VI 

Princess Carmel 






73 

VII 

An Old Greek Idyll 






88 

VIII 

Wood Nymphs 






100 

IX 

The Open Road . 






1 14 

X 

A Meeting 






129 

XI 

A Secret Society 






145 

XII 

White Magic 






157 

XIII 

The Money-makers 






171 

XIV 

All in a Mist 






1 go 

XV 

On the High Seas / 






201 

XVI 

The Casa Bianca 






215 

XVII 

Sicilian Cousins 






229 

XVIII 

A Night of Adventure 





242 

XIX 

At Palermo . 






261 

XX 

Old England 






271 

XXI 

Carmel’s Kingdom 






283 


* 


Illustrations 


“I’ve come to say good-bye to you, Sis” . Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAGK 


“What are we to do now?” gasped Lilias ... 26 

Johnson, the chauffeur, shot down through the wood 134 

She peeped over Laurette’s shoulder 168 

Three figures flung themselves upon him . . . 252 

“Signor Everard, allow me to hand you back your 

inheritance 292 

























































THE PRINCESS OF THE 
SCHOOL 

CHAPTER I 

The Ingleton Family 

On a certain morning, just a week before 
Christmas, the little world of school at Chilcombe 
Hall was awake and stirring at an unusually 
early hour. Long before the slightest hint of 
dawn showed in the sky the lamps were lighted 
in the corridors, maids were scuttling about, 
bringing in breakfast, and Jones, the gardener, 
assisted by his eldest boy, a sturdy grinning 
urchin of twelve, was beginning the process of 
carrying down piles of hand-bags and hold-alls, 
and stacking them on a cart which was waiting in 
the drive outside. 

Miss Walters, dreading the Christmas rush on 
the railway, had determined to take time by the 
forelock, and meant to pack off her pupils by the 
first available trains, trusting they would most of 
them reach their destinations before the over- 
crowding became a serious problem in the traffic, 
l 


2 


The Princess of the School 


The pupils themselves offered no objections to 
this early start. The sooner they reached home 
and began the holidays, so much the better from 
their point of view. It was fun to get up by 
lamp-light, when the stars were still shining in 
the sky; fun to find that rules were relaxed, and 
for once they might chatter and talk as they 
pleased; fun to run unreproved along the pas- 
sages, sing on the stairs, and twirl one another 
round in an impromptu dance in the hall. 

The particular occupants of the Blue Bedroom 
had been astir even before the big bell clanged 
for rising, so they stole a march over rival dormi- 
tories, performed their toilets, packed their hand- 
bags, strapped their wraps, and proceeded down- 
stairs to the dining-hall, where cups and plates 
were just being laid upon the breakfast-table. It 
was quite superfluous energy on the part of 
Lilias, Dulcie, Gowan, and Bertha, for as a mat- 
ter of fact not one of them was on the list of 
earliest departures, but the excitement of the gen- 
eral exodus had awakened them as absolutely as 
the advent of Santa Claus on Christmas morn- 
ings. They stood round the newly-lighted fire, 
warming their hands, chatting, and hailing fresh 
arrivals who hurried into the hall. 

“ You going by the 6.30, Edith? You lucker! 
My train doesn’t start till ten! I begged and 
implored Miss Walters to let me leave by the 


The Ingleton Family 3 

early one, and wait at the junction, but she would 
not hear of it, so I’ve got to stop here kicking my 
heels, and watch you others whisked away. Isn’t 
it a grisly shame? ” 

Gowan’s round rosy face was drawn into a de- 
cided pout, and her blue eyes were full of self- 
pity. She had to be sorry for her own grievance, 
because nobody else had either time or much in- 
clination to sympathize; they were all far too 
much excited about their own concerns. 

“Well, you’ll get off sometime, I suppose,” 
returned Edith airily. “ There are twelve of us, 
all going together as far as Colminster. We 
mean to cram into one carriage if we can. Don’t 
suppose the train will be full, as it’s so early. I 
thought you were coming with us, Bertha, but 
Miss Hardy says you’re not! ” 

“ Dad changed his mind at the last minute, and 
promised to send the car to fetch me. It’s only 
forty miles by road, you know, though it takes 
hours by the train. He seemed to think I should 
lose either myself or my luggage at Sheasby Junc- 
tion, and it is a horrid place to change. You 
never can get hold of a porter, and you don’t 
know which platform you’ll start from.” 

“How are you going home, Lilias?” asked 
Noreen, who with several other girls had joined 
the group at the fire. 

Lilias, squatting on the fender, stretching two 


4 


The Princess of the School 


cold hands towards the blazing sticks, looked up 
brightly. 

“ We’re riding! Astley and Elton are to fetch 
Rajah and Peri over for us. Grandfather said 
they needed exercise. I don’t suppose he’d have 
thought of it, only Dulcie wrote to Cousin Clare 
and begged her to ask him. Won’t it be just 
splendiferous? We haven’t had a ride the whole 
term, and I’m pining to see Rajah! ” 

“ Grandfather had promised to let us ride to 
school in September,” put in Dulcie, “ but Eve- 
rard and a friend of his commandeered the horses 
and went to Rasebury, so we couldn’t have them, 
and we were so disappointed. I do hope nothing 
will happen to stop them this time ! Everard 
was to arrive home yesterday, so he’ll be before 
us. I shan’t ever be friends with him again if he 
plays us such a mean trick! ” 

“ It’s ‘ coach — carriage — wheelbarrow — 
truck,’ it seems to me, the way we’re all trotting 
home!” laughed Edith. “If I could have my 
choice, I’d sprint on a scooter! ” 

“ Next term we’ll travel by private aeroplane, 
specially chartered!” scoffed Noreen. 

“ I don’t mind how I go, so long as I get off 
somehow!” chirped Truie. “Thank goodness, 
here come the urns at last! I began to think 
breakfast would never be ready. We want to 
have time to eat something before we start.” 


The Ingleton Family 5 

Miss Walters’ excellent arrangements had left 
ample time for the healthy young appetites to be 
satisfied before the taxis arrived at the door to 
convey the first contingent of pupils to the sta- 
tion. Sixteen girls, under the escort of a mis- 
tress, took their departure in the highest of spirits, 
packed as tightly as sardines, but managing to 
wave good-bys. Their boxes had been dis- 
patched the previous day, their hand-bags had 
gone on by cart before breakfast and would be 
waiting for them at the station, where Jones, that 
most useful factotum, would, by special arrange- 
ment with the station-master, be taking their 
tickets before the ordinary opening of the book- 
ing-office. 

Though the departure of sixteen girls made 
somewhat of a clearance at Chilcombe Hall, Miss 
Walters’ labors were not yet over. There was 
a train at eight and a train at ten, and the young 
people who had to wait for these found it diffi- 
cult to know how to employ the interval until it 
was their turn to enter the taxis. By nine o’clock 
Lilias and Dulcie, ready in their riding habits, 
were looking eagerly out of the dining-hall win- 
dow along the drive which led to the gate. 

u I know Elton would be early,” said Dulcie. 
“ It’s always Astley who stops and fusses. It 
was the same when Everard went cub-hunting. 
You don’t think there’s a hitch, do you?” (un- 


6 The Princess of the School 


easily). “ Shall we get a horrid yellow envelope 
and a message to say ‘ Come by train ’ ? It would 
be too bad, and yet, it’s as likely as not! ” 

Dulcie’s fears, which in the course of twenty 
minutes’ waiting and watching had almost con- 
jured up the telegraph boy with his scarlet bicycle 
and brown leather wallet, were suddenly dis- 
pelled, however, by a brisk sound of trotting, and 
a moment later appeared the welcome sight of 
her grandfather’s two grooms riding up to the 
house, each leading a spare horse by the rein. 
Those schoolfellows who had not yet departed 
to the station came to the door to witness the 
interesting start. A sleek, well-groomed horse is 
always a beautiful object, and the girls decided 
unanimously that Lilias and Dulcie were. lucky to 
be carried home in so delightful a fashion. They 
watched them admiringly as they mounted. 
Edith stroked Rajah’s smooth neck as she said 
good-by to her friends. 

“ Riding beats motoring in my opinion,” she 
vouchsafed, “ though of course you can go far- 
ther in a car. Perhaps I shall pass you on the 
road.” 

“ tfo, you won’t, for we’re taking a short cut 
across country. We always choose by-lanes if 
we can. Write and tell me if you get a motor- 
scooter. They sound fearfully thrillsome. 
Good-by, see you again in January! ” 


The Ingleton Family 7 

“ Good-by! and a merry Christmas to every- 
body !” added Dulcie, turning on her saddle to 
wave a parting salute to those who were left be- 
hind on the doorstep. 

The two girls walked their horses down the 
drive, but once out on the level road they trotted 
on briskly, with the grooms riding behind. They 
formed quite a little cavalcade as they turned 
from the hard motor track down the grassy lane 
where a dilapidated sign-post pointed to Ringfield 
and Cheverley. It was a distance of seven good 
country miles from Chilcombe Hall to Cheverley 
Chase, and, as the events of this story center 
largely round Lilias and Dulcie, there will be 
ample time to describe them while they are wend- 
ing their way through the damp of the misty 
December morning, up from the low-lying river 
level to the hill country that stretched beyond. 

Lilias was just sixteen, and very pretty, with 
gray eyes, fair hair, a straight nose, and two 
bewitching dimples when she smiled. These 
dimples were rather misleading, for they gave 
strangers the impression that Lilias was humor- 
ous, which was entirely a mistake : it was Dulcie 
who was the humorist in reality, Dulcie whose 
long lashes dropped over her shy eyes, and who 
never could say a word for herself in public, 
though in the society of intimate friends she could 
be amusing enough. Dulcie, at fourteen, seemed 


8 The Princess of the School 


years younger than Lilias; she did not wish to 
grow up too soon, and thankfully tipped all re- 
sponsibilities on to her elder sister. Cousin 
Clare always said there were undiscovered depths 
in Dulcie’s character, but they were slow in de- 
velopment, and at present she was a childish little 
person with a pink baby face, an affection for 
fairy tales, and even a sneaking weakness for her 
discarded dolls. Life, that to Lilias seemed a 
serious business, was a joyous venture to Dulcie; 
she had a happy knack of shaking off the unpleas- 
ant things, and throwing the utmost possible 
power of enjoyment into the nice ones. If in- 
nocent happiness is the birthright of childhood, 
she clung to it steadfastly, and had not yet 
exchanged it for the red pottage of worldly 
wisdom. 

Ever since Father and Mother, in the great 
disaster of the wreck of the Titanic, had gone 
down together into the gray waters of the Atlan- 
tic, the Ingleton children had lived with their 
grandfather, Mr. Leslie Ingleton, at Cheverley 
Chase. There were six of them, Everard, Lilias, 
Dulcie, Roland, Bevis, and Clifford, and as time 
passed on, and the memory of that tragedy in mid- 
ocean grew faint, the Chase seemed as entirely 
their home as if they had been born there. In 
Everard’s opinion, at any rate, it belonged to 
them, as it had always belonged to the prospec- 


The Ingleton. Family 9 

tive heirs of the Ingleton family. And that 
family could trace back through many centuries to 
days of civil wars and service for king and coun- 
try, to crusades and deeds of chivalry, and even 
to far-away ancestors who gave counsel at Saxon 
Witenagemots. Norman keep had succeeded 
wooden manor, and that in its turn had given 
place to a Tudor dwelling, and both had finally 
merged into a long Georgian mansion, with 
straight rows of windows and a classic porch, not 
so picturesque as the older buildings, but very 
convenient and comfortable from a modern point 
of view. The lovely gardens, with their clipped 
yew hedges, were one of the sights of the neigh- 
borhood, and it was a family satisfaction that the 
view from the terrace over park, wood, and 
stream showed not a single acre of land that was 
not their own. 

Mr. Leslie Ingleton, a fine type of the old- 
fashioned, kindly, but autocratic English squire, 
belonged to a bygone generation, and found it 
difficult to move with the march of the times. 
Because he had spent his seventy-four years of 
life on the soil of Cheverley, the people tolerated 
in “ the ould squire ” many things that they would 
not have passed over in a younger man or a 
stranger. They shrugged their shoulders and 
gave way to his well-meant tyranny, for man and 
boy, everybody on the estate had experienced his 


io The Princess of the School 

kindness and realized his good intentions towards 
his tenants. 

“ If he does fly off at a tangent, ten to one Miss 
Clare’ll be down the next day and set all straight 
again,” was the general verdict on his frequent 
outbursts. 

Cheverley Chase would have been quite incom- 
plete without Cousin Clare. She was a second 
cousin of the Ingletons, who had come to tend 
Grandmother in her last illness, and after her 
death had remained to take charge of the house- 
hold and the newly-arrived family of grandchil- 
dren. She was one of those calm, quiet, big- 
souled women who in the early centuries would 
have been a saint, and in mediaeval times the ab- 
bess of a nunnery, but happening to be born in 
the nineteenth century, her mental outlook had 
a modern bias, and both her philanthropy and her 
religious instincts had developed along the latest 
lines of thought. She had schemes of her own 
for work in the world, but at present she was do- 
ing the task that was nearest in helping to bring 
up the motherless children who had been placed 
temporarily in her care. To manage this rather 
turbulent crew, soothe the irascible old Squire, 
and keep the general household in unity was a 
task that required unusual powers of tact, and a 
capacity for administration and organization that 
was worthy of a wider sphere. She might be 


The Ingleton Family n 

described as the axle of the family wheel, for she 
was the unobtrusive center around which every- 
thing unconsciously revolved. 

But by this time Lilias and Dulcie will have 
ridden up hill and down dale, and will be turning 
Rajah and Peri in at the great wrought-iron gates 
of Cheverley Chase, and trotting through the 
park, and up the laurel-bordered carriage drive to 
the house. There was quite a big welcome for 
them when they arrived. Everard had returned 
the day before from Harrow, Roland was back 
from his preparatory school, and the two little 
ones, Bevis and Clifford, had just said good-by 
for three weeks to their nursery governess, and 
in consequence were in the wildest of holiday 
spirits. There was a general family pilgrimage 
round the premises to look at all the most cher- 
ished treasures, the horses, the pigeons, the pet 
rabbits, the new puppies, the garden, and the 
woods beyond the park; there were talks with the 
grooms and the keepers, and plans for cutting 
evergreens and decorating both the house and 
the village church in orthodox Christmas fashion. 

“ It’s lovely to be at home again,” sighed Lilias 
with satisfaction, as the three elder ones saun- 
tered back through the winding paths of the ter- 
raced vegetable garden. 

“ And such a home, too! ” exulted Dulcie. 

“ Rather! ” agreed Everard. “That was ex- 


12 The Princess of the School 

actly what was in my mind. The first thing I 
thought when I looked out of the window this 
morning was: ‘What a ripping place it is, and 
some day it will be all mine.’ ” 

“Yours, Everard?” 

“Why, of course. Who’s else should it be? 
The Chase has always gone strictly in the male 
line, and I’m the oldest grandson, so naturally 
I’m the heir. It goes without saying! ” 

Dulcie’s pink face was looking puzzled. 

“ Do you mean to say if Grandfather were to 
die, that everything would be yours? ” she asked. 
“ Would you be the Squire? ” 

“ I believe I’m called ‘ the young squire ’ al- 
ready,” replied Everard airily. 

“But what about the rest of us?” objected 
Dulcie. 

“ Oh, I’d look after you, of course ! The heir 
always does something for the younger ones. 
You needn’t be afraid on that score! ” 

Everard’s tone was magnanimous and patroniz- 
ing in the extreme. He was gazing at the house 
with an air of evident proprietorship. Dulcie, 
who had never considered the question before, 
revolved it carefully in her youthful brain for a 
moment or two; then she ventured a comment. 

“ Wouldn’t it be fairer to divide it? ” 
“Nonsense, Dulcie!” put in Lilias. “You 
don’t understand. Properties like this are never 


The Ingleton Family 13 

divided. They always go, just as they are, to 
the eldest son. You couldn’t chop them up into 
pieces, or there’d be no estate left.” 

“ Couldn’t one have the house and the other 
the wood, and another the park? ” 

“ Much good the house would do anybody 
without the estate to keep it up ! ” grunted Eve- 
rard. “ Dulcie, you’re an utter baby. I don’t 
believe you ever see farther than the end of your 
silly little nose. You may be glad you’ve got a 
brother to take care of you.” 

“ But haven’t I as much right here as you? ” 
persisted Dulcie obstinately. 

“ No, you haven’t; the heir always has the best 
right to everything. Cheer up ! When the 
place is mine, I mean to have a ripping time here! 
I’ll make things hum, I can tell you — ask my 
friends down, and you girls shall help to enter- 
tain. I’ve planned it all out. I suppose I shall 
have to go to Cambridge first, but I’ll enjoy my- 
self there too — you bet ! On the whole I think 
I was born under a lucky star ! Hallo ! there goes 
Astley; I want to speak to him.” 

Everard whistled to the groom, and ran down 
the garden, leaving his sisters to return to the 
house. At seventeen he was a fair, handsome, 
dashing sort of boy, of a type more common 
thirty years ago than at present. He held closely 
to the old-fashioned ideas of privileges of birth, 


14 The Princess of the School 

and, according to modern notions, had contracted 
some false ideals of life. He had lounged 
through school without attempting to work, and 
was depending for all his future upon what should 
be left him by the industry of others. All the 
same, in spite of his attitude of u top dog ” in the 
family, he was attractive, and inclined to be gen- 
erous. Like most boys of seventeen, he had 
reached the “ swollen head ” stage, and imagined 
himself of vastly greater importance than he really 
was. The sobriquet of “ the young squire ” 
pleased his fancy, and he meant to live up to what 
he considered were the traditions of so distin- 
guished a title. 


CHAPTER II 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

Christmas passed over at Cheverley Chase in 
good old-fashioned orthodox mode. The young 
Ingletons, with plenty of evergreens to work 
upon, performed prodigies in the way of decora- 
tions at church and home. They distributed 
presents at a Christmas-tree for the children of 
tenants, and turned up in a body to occupy the 
front seats at the annual New Year’s concert in 
the village. When the usual festivities were fin- 
ished, however, time hung a little heavy on their 
hands, and one particular morning found them 
lounging about the breakfast-room in the es- 
pecially aggravating situation of not quite know- 
ing what to do with themselves. 

“ It’s too bad we can’t have the horses to- 
day! ” groused Dulcie. u I’d set my heart on a 
ride, and I can’t get on with my fancy work till I 
can go to Balderton for some more silks.” 

“ And I want some wool,” proclaimed Lilias, 
stopping from a rather unnecessary onslaught of 
poking at the fire. “ There’s never anything fit 

is 


1 6 The Princess of the School 


to buy at this wretched little shop in the village! ” 

u Except bacon and kippers ! ” grinned Roland. 

“ I can’t knit with kippers! ” 

“Fact is, we’re all bored stiff!” drawled 
Everard from the sofa, flinging away the book he 
was reading, and stretching his arms in the luxury 
of a long-drawn yawn. “ What should you say 
to a turn in the car? Wouldn’t it be rather 
sport, don’t you think?” 

“ If Grandfather would spare Milner to take 
us ! ” said Lilias doubtfully. 

“We don’t want Milner. Fll drive you! I 
can manage a car as well as he can, any day. 
Don’t get excited, you kids! No, Bevis, I shall 
certainly riot allow you to try to drive! There’s 
only going to be one man at that job, and that’s 
myself ! M 

“Shall we go and ask Grandfather?” sug- 
gested Dulcie. 

“ Right you are ! No, not the whole of us,” 
(as there was a general family move). “ Three’s 
enough ! ” 

So a deputation, consisting of Everard, Lilias, 
and Dulcie, promptly presented themselves at the 
study door and tapped for admission. As there 
was no reply to a second rap, they opened the 
door and walked into the room. Grandfather 
was rather deaf, and sometimes, when he had 
ignored a summons, he would say: “ Well, why 


*7 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

didn’t you come in?” He was generally to be 
found writing letters at this hour in the morning, 
but to-day the revolving chair was empty. He 
had apparently begun his usual correspondence, 
for his desk was littered with papers. Leaning 
up against the inkpot there was a photograph. 
The young people, who had walked across the 
room towards the window, could not fail to no- 
tice it, for it was tilted in such a prominent place 
that it at once attracted their attention. It rep- 
resented a very pretty dark-eyed young lady, hold- 
ing a baby on her lap, with a slight background 
of Greek columns. The decidedly foreign look 
about it was justified by the photographer’s name 
in the corner: “Carlo Salviati, Palermo.” 
Over the top was written in ink, in a man’s hand- 
writing: “My wife and Leslie, from Tris- 
tram.” 

“Who is it?” asked Everard, gazing at the 
portrait with curiosity. “ She’s rather decent 
looking. Never seen her here, though, that I can 
remember ! ” 

“It’s a ducky little baby! But who is Tris- 
tram? ” said Dulcie. 

“We had an Uncle Tristram once,” answered 
Lilias doubtfully. 

“ Why, but he died years and years ago, when 
we were all kids ! ” returned Everard. 

“ I know. He was the only Tristram in the 


18 The Princess of the School 


family, though. I can’t imagine who these two 
can be. Leslie, too! Why, that’s Grandfather’s 
name ! Was the baby christened after him ? ” 

“ We’ll ask Cousin Clare sometime,” said Dul- 
cie, so interested that she could scarcely tear 
herself away. “ I really want to know most fear- 
fully who they are.” 

“ Oh, don’t bother about photos at present! 
Let’s find Grandfather!” urged Everard. 
“ Perhaps he’s gone down to the stables, or he 
may be in the gun-room.” 

On further inquiry, however, they ascertained 
that a telegram had arrived for Mr. Ingleton, on 
the receipt of which he had consulted Miss Clare, 
had ordered the smaller car, and they had both 
been driven away by Milner, the chauffeur, and 
were not expected back until seven or eight o’clock 
in the evening. This was news indeed. For a 
whole day the heads of the establishment would 
be absent, and the younger generation had the 
place to themselves. For the next eight hours 
they could do practically as they pleased. 

Everard stood for a moment thinking. He 
did not reveal quite all that passed through his 
mind, but the first instalment was sufficient for the 
family. 

“ We’ll get out the touring car, take some lunch 
with us, and have a joy-ride.” 

Five delighted faces smiled their appreciation. 


A Stolen Joy-ride 19 

“Oh, Everard! Dare we?” Dulcie’s objec- 
tion was consciously faint. 

“Why not? When Grandfather’s away, I 
consider I’ve a right to take his place and use the 
car if I want. I’m master here in his absence! 
I’ll make it all right with him; don’t you girls 
alarm yourselves! Tear off and put on your 
coats, and tell Atkins to pack us a basket of lunch, 
and to put some coffee in the thermos flasks.” 

With Everard willing to assume the full re- 
sponsibility the girls could not resist such a tempt- 
ing offer, while the younger boys were, of course, 
only too ready to follow where their elders led. 
Elton, the groom, made some slight demur when 
Everard went down to the motor-house and be- 
gan to get out the big touring-car, but the boy 
behaved with such assurance that he concluded 
he must be acting with his grandfather’s permis- 
sion. Moreover, Elton was in charge of the 
horses, and not the cars, and Milner, the chauf- 
feur, who might reasonably have raised objec- 
tions, was away driving his master. 

The cook, who perhaps considered it was no 
business of hers to offer remonstrances, and that 
the house would be quieter without the young 
folks, hastily packed a picnic hamper and filled 
the thermos flasks. A rejoicing crew carried 
them outside and stowed them in the car. 

It seemed a delightful adventure to go off in 


20 


The Princess of the School 


this way entirely on their own. There was some 
slight wrangling over seats, but Everard settled 
it in his lofty fashion. 

“ You’ll sit where I tell you. I’ll have Lilias 
in front, and the rest of you may pack in behind. 
If you don’t like it, you can stop at home. No, 
I’m not going to have you kids interfering here, 
so you needn’t think it.” 

Everard had been taught by the chauffeur to 
drive, and could manage a car quite tolerably 
well. He possessed any amount of confidence, 
which is a good or bad quality according to cir- 
cumstances. He ran the large touring “ Daim- 
ler ” successfully through the park, and turned 
her out at the great iron gateway on to the high- 
road. Everybody was in the keenest spirits. It 
was a lovely day, wonderfully mild for January, 
and the sunshine was so pleasant that they hardly 
needed the thick fur rugs. There seemed a hint 
of spring in the air; already hazel catkins hung 
here and there in the hedgerows, thrushes and 
robins were singing cheerily, and wayside cottages 
were covered with the blossom of the yellow jes- 
samine. It was a joy to spin along the good 
smooth highroad in the luxurious car. Everard 
was a quick driver, and kept a pace which some- 
times exceeded the speed limit. Fortunately his 
brothers and sisters were not nervous, or they 
might have held their breath as he dashed round 


21 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

corners without sounding his horn, pelted down 
hills, and on several occasions narrowly avoided 
colliding with farm carts. A reckless boy of 
seventeen, without much previous experience, 
does not make the most careful of motorists. As 
a matter of fact it was the first time Master 
Everard had driven without the chauffeur at his 
elbow, and, though he got on very well, his per- 
formance was not unattended with risks. 

Towards one o’clock the crew at the back be- 
gan to clamor for lunch, and to suggest a halt 
when some suitable spot should be reached. The 
difficulty was to find a place, for they were driving 
so fast that by the time the younger boys had 
called out the possibilities of some wood or small 
quarry, the car had flown past, and, sooner than 
turn back, Everard would say: “ Oh, we’ll stop 
somewhere else ! ” 

By unanimous urging, however, he was at last 
persuaded to halt at a picturesque little bridge in 
a sheltered hollow, where they had the benefit of 
the sunshine and escaped the wind. A small 
brook wandered below between green banks 
where autumn brambles still showed brown leaves, 
and actually a shriveled blackberry or two re- 
mained. There was a patch of grass by the road- 
side, and here Everard put the car, to be out of 
reach of passing traffic, while its occupants spread 
the rugs on the low wall of the bridge, and began 


22 


The Princess of the School 

to unpack their picnic baskets. Cook had cer- 
tainly done her best for them: there were ham 
sandwiches and pieces of cold pie, and jam turn- 
overs, and slices of cake, and some apples and 
oranges, and plenty of hot coffee in the thermos 
flasks. 

“ It’s ever so much nicer to have one’s meals 
out-of-doors, even in January!’’ declared Bevis, 
munching a damson tartlet, and dropping stones 
into the brook below. “ I believe it’s warm 
enough to wade. That water doesn’t look cold, 
somehow ! ” 

“ No, you don’t! ” said Lilias briskly. “ You 
needn’t think, just because Miss Mason isn’t here, 
you can do all the mad things you like. It’s no 
use beginning to unlace your boots, for I shan’t 
let you wade, or Clifford either! The idea! In 
January! ” 

u Why not?” sulked Bevis. “I didn’t ask 
you, Lilias. Everard won’t say no! ” 

“ You can please yourselves,” answered his 
eldest brother, “ but Pm going to take the car on 
now. If you stay and wade, you’ll have to walk 
home, that’s all ! I certainly shan’t came back 
for you.” 

At so awful a threat the youngsters, who had 
really meant business where the water was con- 
cerned, hurriedly relaced their boots, and ran to 
take their places in the car; the girls finished pack- 


23 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

mg the remains of the picnic in the basket, and 
followed, and soon the engine was started again, 
and they were once more flying along the road. 

Everard had brought out the family for a joy- 
ride without any very particular idea of where 
they were going, though he was steering generally 
in the direction of the Cleland Hills. To his 
mind the chief fun of the expedition lay in simply 
taking any road that looked interesting, without 
regard to sign-posts. The others trusted implic- 
itly to his powers of path-finding, and had really 
not the slightest idea in what part of the country 
they were traveling. After quite a long time, 
however, it occurred to Lilias to ask where they 
were, and how long it would take them to get 
home again. 

“ We’ve come such a roundabout route, I 
scarcely know,” replied Everard. “ Those are 
the Cleland Hills in front of us, though, and if 
we bowl straight ahead, and go over them, we 
shall get to Clacton Bridge; then we can get the 
straight highroad back to Cheverley.” 

“ We shan’t be home before it’s dark, 
though? ” 

“Well, no! But the head lights are working 
all right — I tried them before we started.” 

“ It will be fun to drive in the dark! ” chuckled 
the boys behind. 

“ I hope we shall be back before Grandfather 


24 The Princess of the School 

and Cousin Clare, though,” said Dulcie a little 
uneasily. 

The road over the Cleland Hills was much 
wilder than they expected, and it was very stony 
and bad. Up and up they went till walls, hedges 
and farms had disappeared, and only the lonely 
moor lay on either side of the rough track. It 
was a place where no motorist in his senses would 
have ventured to take a car, the extreme rough- 
ness of the road made steering difficult, and the 
strain on the tires was enormous. Instead of 
driving cautiously, Everard plunged along with 
all the hardihood of youth, bumping anyhow over 
ruts and stones. They were just beyond the 
brow of the hill when a loud bang, followed by a 
grinding sensation, announced the bad news that 
one of their tires had burst. 

“ What beastly bad luck! ” lamented Everard, 
getting out to inspect the injured cover. “ It 
might have had the decency to keep up till we had 
reached civilization! Well, there’s nothing for 
it but to put on the spare tire. I’ve helped Mil- 
ner to do it before, so I can manage. It’s a 
bother we left the spare wheel at home. I shall 
want some of you to help me, though.” 

Everard had indeed rendered some assistance 
to the chauffeur on various occasions, but it was 
quite another matter to perform the troublesome 
operation of changing the tire with only two girls 


25 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

and three young brothers to lend a hand. In 
their inexperienced enthusiasm, they did all the 
wrong things, very nearly nipped the tube, mis- 
laid the tools, and pulled where they should have 
pushed. It was only after nearly an hour’s work 
that Everard at last managed to get the business 
finished. The family, warm and excited, packed 
once more into the car. 

“Well, I hope we shall have no more troubles 
now! ” exclaimed Lilias, who was growing tired 
and longing for home and tea. “ What’s the 
matter, Everard? ” 

“ Matter! Why, she won’t start, that’s all! ” 

Here was a predicament ! Whether the bump- 
ing up the rough road had thrown some delicate 
piece of mechanism out of gear, or the waiting in 
the cold had cooled the engine, it was impossible 
to say, but nothing that Everard could do would 
induce the car to start. He examined everything 
which his rather limited knowledge of motorology 
suggested might be the cause of the stoppage, but 
with no result. After half an hour’s tinkering, 
he was obliged ruefully to acknowledge himself 
utterly baffled. 

They were indeed in an extremely awkward 
situation, stranded on a wild moor, probably sixty 
miles from home, and with the short winter’s day 
closing rapidly in. 


26 The Princess of the School 


“What are we to do?” gasped Lilias, half- 
crying. 

“ We can’t stay here all night! ” 

“ Finish our prog and sleep in the car,” sug- 
gested Roland. 

“ No, no! We should be frozen before morn- 
ing.” 

“ I think we’d better walk on while it’s light 
enough to see,” said Everard. “ We shall prob- 
ably strike a highroad soon, and we’ll stop some 
motorist, ask for a lift to the nearest town, and 
stay all night at a hotel.” 

“ But what about the car?” 

“ We must just leave her to her fate. There’s 
nothing else for it. I don’t suppose anybody 
will touch her up here. It can’t be helped, any 
way.” 

“ Let’s finish our prog before we set off! ” per- 
sisted Roland, opening the picnic basket. 

The family was hungry again, so they readily 
set to work to dispose of the remains of their 
lunch. It might be a long time before they were 
within reach of their next meal, and they blessed 
Cook for having packed a plentiful supply. 
Everard would not let them linger for more than 
a few minutes. 

“Hurry up, you kids!” he urged. “We 
don’t know how far we may have to go, and it 



D 70 


“WHAT ARE WE TO DO ! ” GASPED LILIAS 




A Stolen Joy-ride 27 

will be getting dark soon. Thank goodness we 
shall be walking down hill, at any rate.” 

After whisking along in the car, “ Shanks’s 
pony” seemed a very slow mode of progress; 
their breakdown had happened in an out-of-the- 
way spot, and it was more than an hour before 
they reached a highroad. It was almost dark by 
that time, and matters seemed so desperate that 
Everard determined to hail the very first passing 
motorist who seemed to be able to help them. 
Fate brought along no handsome tourist car, but 
a rattling motor-lorry, the driver of which stopped 
in answer to their united shouts, and, after hear- 
ing of the difficulty they were in, consented to give 
them a lift to the town, five miles away, for which 
he was bound. Fortunately the lorry was empty, 
so the family thankfully climbed in, and squatted 
on the floor, while Everard sat in front with the 
driver. 

It was not a very aristocratic mode of convey- 
ance for the heir of Cheverley Chase, but Everard 
was in no mood to pick and choose just then, and 
would have accepted a seat in a coal truck if nec- 
essary. As for the younger ones, they enjoyed 
the fun of it. It was a very bumpy performance 
to sit on the floor of the jolting wagon, but at any 
rate infinitely preferable to walking. 

Arrived in Bilstone, their cicerone drove them 
to a Commercial Hotel with whose landlady he 


28 The Princess of the School 


had some acquaintance, and that good dame, after 
eyeing the party curiously, consented to make up 
beds for them for the night. 

“ I’ve no private sitting-room to put you in, 
and I can’t show these young ladies into the com- 
mercial room,” she objected; “ but I’ll have a fire 
lighted in one of the bedrooms, and you can all 
have some tea up there. Will that suit you? ” 

Lilias and Dulcie, catching a glimpse through 
an open door of the company smoking in the com- 
mercial room, agreed thankfully, glad to find 
some safe haven to which they could beat a re- 
treat. 

“I wonder what Cousin Clare would say?” 
they asked each other. 

It was indeed an urgent matter to send some 
news of their whereabouts to Cheverley Chase, 
where their absence must be causing much alarm. 
While the landlady, therefore, ordered the tea, 
Everard went out to the public telephone, asked 
for a trunk call, and rang up No. 169 Balderton. 
He could hear relief in the voice of old Winder, 
who answered the telephone. Everard was not 
anxious to enter into too many explanations, so 
he simply said that they had had a breakdown, 
told the name of the town and the hotel where 
they were staying, and suggested that Milner 
should come over next morning to the rescue. On 
hearing his Grandfather’s voice, he promptly rang 


29 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

off. To-morrow would be quite time enough, so 
he felt, for giving the history of their adventure. 
The unpleasant interview might just as well be 
deferred, and he had no wish to listen to explo- 
sions of anger over the telephone. 

Tea, tinned salmon, plum and apple jam, and 
very indifferent bedrooms were the best that the 
Commercial Hotel had to offer, but it was in- 
finitely better than being benighted on the moor. 
In spite of lack of all toilet necessaries, the Ingle- 
tons slept peacefully, worn out with their long day 
in the fresh air. Milner, the chauffeur, must have 
made an early start, for he arrived at eleven 
o’clock next morning in the small car, armed with 
his master’s instructions. He paid the hotel bill, 
chartered a taxi, in which he dispatched Lilias, 
Dulcie, Roland, Bevis and Clifford, straight for 
home, then, engaging a mechanic from a garage, 
and taking Everard as guide, he started up the 
hill in the pouring rain to find the abandoned car. 
It needed several hours’ attention before it could 
be induced to start, and it was not until evening 
that he was able to place it safely back in the 
motor-house at Cheverley Chase. 

Everard had expected his peppery grandfather 
to be angry, but he was quite unprepared for the 
intensity of the storm which burst over his head 
on his return. 

“ Your insolence goes beyond all bounds!” 


30 The Princess of the School 

thundered Mr. Ingleton. “ To borrow my car 
without leave! And to take your sisters without 
a chaperon to a fifth-rate public-house! You de- 
serve horsewhipping for it! You think yourself 
the young Squire, do you? And imagine you can 
do just what you like here? While I’m above 
ground I'll have you to know Fm master, and no- 
body else in this place! ” 

“ I can't see it was anything so out of the way 
to take the kids a run in the car, and I never 
meant to keep the girls out all night,” replied 
Everard defiantly. He had a temper as well as 
his grandfather, and the pair had often been at 
loggerheads before. 

“ Indeed! There are ways of making people 
see ! You can just go a little too far sometimes ! ” 
declared .the old gentleman sarcastically. “ I’ve 
given orders that you don't take either car out 
again unless Milner is with you. So you under- 
stand?" 

“ I suppose I do," grunted Everard, turning 
sulkily away. 

It was only a few days after this that Everard, 
Lilias, ‘and Dulcie, returning home across the park 
from a walk in the woods, met Mr. Bowden, the 
family solicitor, who was riding down the drive 
from the Chase. He stopped his motor-bicycle 
and got off to speak to them. They knew him 
well, for he often came to the house to conduct 


3 1 


A Stolen Joy-ride 

their grandfather’s business, and he was indeed 
quite a favorite with them all. He looked at 
Everard keenly when the first greetings were over. 

“ Been getting yourself into considerable hot 
water just lately, haven’t you?” he remarked. 

Everard colored and frowned, then burst forth. 

“Grandfather’s quite too ridiculous! Why 
shouldn’t I take out the car if I want to? I can 
drive as well as Milner! He behaved as if I 
were a kid! It’s more than a fellow can stand 
sometimes! He likes to keep everything tight 
in his own hands; at his age it’s time he began to 
stand aside a little and let me look after things! 
I shall have to take charge of the whole property 
some day, I suppose! ” 

Mr. Bowden was gazing at Everard with the 
noncommittal air often assumed by lawyers. 

“ I wouldn’t make too sure about that,” he said 
slowly. “ I suppose you know your Uncle Tris- 
tram left a child? No! Well, he did, at any 
rate. I must hurry on now. I’ve an appoint- 
ment to keep at my office. A happy New Year 
to you all. Good-by! ” 

And, starting his engine, he was off before they 
had time to reply. 

u What does he mean? ” asked Lilias, watching 
the retreating bicycle. “ Uncle Tristram has been 
dead for thirteen years ! We never seem to have 
heard anything about him ! ” 


3 2 The Princess of the School 


“ What was that photo we saw on the study 
table?” queried Dulcie. “Don’t you remember 
— the lady and the baby, and it had written on it : 
‘ My wife and Leslie, from Tristram.’ ” 

“ I suppose it was Uncle Tristram’s wife and 
child,” replied Everard thoughtfully. “ He 
must have called the kid ‘ Leslie ’ after Grand- 
father. They ought to have christened me 
i Leslie.’ I can’t think why they didn’t.” 

“ Have we a cousin Leslie, then, whom we 
don’t know?” 

“ I suppose we must have, somewhere! ” 

“ How fearfully thrilling! ” 

“Um! I don’t know that it’s thrilling at all. 
It’s the first I’ve heard of it until to-day. I wish 
our father had been the eldest son, instead of 
Uncle Tristram! ” 

“Why? What does it matter?” 

“ It may matter more than you think. You’re 
a silly little goose, Dulcie, and, as I often tell you, 
you never see farther than the end of your own 
nose. Surely, after all these years, though, 

Grandfather must ” 

“ Must what? ” asked Lilias curiously. 

“Never you mind! Girls can’t know every- 
thing! ” snapped Everard, walking on in front of 
his sisters with a look of unwonted worry upon 
his usually careless and handsome young face. 


CHAPTER III 


A Valentine Party 

Chilcombe Hall, where Lilias and Dulcie had 
been boarders for the last two years, was an ex- 
ceedingly nice school. It stood on a hill-side well 
raised above the river, and behind it there was 
a little wood where bulbs had been naturalized, 
and where, in their season, you might find clumps 
of pure white snowdrops, sheets of glorious daffo- 
dils, and later on lovely masses of the lily of the 
valley. In the garden all kinds of sweet things 
seemed to be blooming the whole year round. 
Golden aconite buds opened with the January 
term, and in a wild patch above the rockery the 
delicious heliotrope-scented Petasites fragrans 
blossomed to tempt the bees which an hour’s sun- 
shine would bring forth from the hives, scarlet 
Pyrus japanica was trained along the wall under 
the front windows, and early flowering cherry and 
almond blossoms made delicate pink patches of 
color long before leaves were showing on the 
trees. 

Beautiful surroundings in a school can be quite 
33 


34 The Princess of the School 

as important a part of our education as the text- 
books through which we toil. We are made up 
of body, mind, and spirit, and the developing soul 
needs satisfying as much as the physical or mental 
part of us. Long years afterwards, though we 
utterly forget the lessons we may have learnt as 
children, we can still vividly recall the effect of 
the afternoon sun streaming through the fuchsia 
bush outside the open French window where we 
sat conning those unremembered tasks. The 
lovely things of nature, assimilated half uncon- 
sciously when we are young, equip us with a 
purity of heart and a refinement of taste that 
should safeguard us later, and keep our thoughts 
at a lofty level. 

The “ beauty cult ” was a decided feature of 
Chilcombe Hall., Miss Walters was extremely 
artistic; she painted well in water-colors and had 
exquisite taste. Many of the charming decora- 
tions in the house had been done by herself; she 
had designed and stencilled the frieze of droop- 
ing clusters of wistaria that decorated the dining- 
hall wall; the framed landscapes in the drawing- 
room were her own work, and she herself always 
superintended the arrangement of the bowls of 
flowers that gave such brightness to the school- 
rooms. 

Her twenty pupils had on the whole a decidedly 
pleasant time. There were just enough of them 


35 


A Valentine Party 

to develop the community spirit, but not too many 
to obliterate the individual, or, as Ida Spenser 
put it: “ You can get up a play, or a dance, or 
any other sort of fun, and yet we all know each 
other like a kind of big family.” 

“ Divided up into small families according to 
bedrooms ! ” added Hester Wilson. 

The bedrooms at Chilcombe Hall were rather 
a speciality. They were large, and were fur- 
nished partly as studies, and girls had their own 
bookcases, knick-knacks, and pretty things there. 
As the house was provided with central heating, 
they were warmed, and a certain amount of prep- 
aration was done in them each afternoon. Miss 
Walters’ artistic faculty had decorated them in 
schemes of various colors, so that they were 
known respectively as The Rose, The Gold, The 
Green, The Brown, and The Blue Bedrooms. 
Lilias and Dulcie Ingleton, Gowan Barbour, and 
Bertha Chesters, who occupied the last-named, 
considered it quite the choicest of all. They had 
each made important contributions to its furni- 
ture, had clubbed together to buy a Liberty table- 
cloth, had provided vases in lovely shades of tur- 
quoise blue, and had worked toilet-mats, night- 
dress cases and other accessories to accord with 
the prevailing tone. “ The Blue Grotto,” as they 
named their dormitory, certainly had points over 
rival bedrooms, for it looked down the garden 


36 The Princess of the School 

towards the river, and had the best view of the 
sunset. Moreover, it was at the very end of the 
corridor, so that sudden outbursts of laughter did 
not meet the ears of Miss Hardy quite so easily 
as from the Rose or the Brown room. 

The work of the spring term had been in full 
swing for nearly a month, when Gowan Barbour, 
looking at the calendar — hand-painted, with blue 
cranesbill geraniums — suddenly discovered that 
next morning would be the festival of St. Valen- 
tine. 

“Could anything be better?” she exulted. 
“We’ve won the record for tidiness three weeks 
running, so we’re entitled to a special indulgence. 
I vote we ask to bring tea up here, and have a 
Valentine party. Don’t you think it would be 
rather scrumptious? I’ve all sorts of ideas in 
my head.” 

“ Topping! ” agreed Dulcie, pausing in the act 
of tying her hair ribbon to consider the important 
question, “ specially if we could get Miss Walters 
to let us send to Glazebrook for a few cakes. I 
believe she would, if we wheedled! ” 

“What about visitors?” asked Lilias. “It 
would be much more of a party if we had a few 
of the others in.” 

“ We don’t want a crowd, or we might as well 
be in the dining-hall,” objected Bertha. 

“ Well, of course we shouldn’t ask the whole 


A Valentine Party 37 

school, naturally, but perhaps just Noreen and 
Phillida ! ” 

“ We must get at the soft spot in Miss Walters’ 
heart,” decided Gowan. “ Pick a bunch of early 
violets if you can find them, lay them on her study 
table, talk about flowers and nature for a little 
while, then ask if we may have a quiet little party 
in our bedroom to-morrow afternoon, with cakes 
at our own expense.” 

“ Quiet? ” queried Lilias. 

“ Well, of course you couldn’t call it rowdy, 
could you? We’ll send you to do the asking. 
Those dimples of yours generally get what you 
want, and on the whole I think you’re the pattern 
one of us, and the most likely to be listened to.” 

Tea at Chilcombe Hall was a quite informal 
meal. It partook, indeed more of the nature of 
a canteen. The urns were what the girls called 
“ on tap ” from four to four-thirty, and during 
summer any one might take cup, saucer, and plate 
into the garden, provided she duly brought them 
back afterwards to the dining-hall. Special per- 
mission for a bedroom feast was therefore not 
very difficult to obtain, and Lilias returned from 
her interview in the study with her dimples con- 
spicuously in evidence. 

“Well?” asked the interested circle in the 
Blue bedroom. 

“Sweet as honey!” reported Lilias. “She 


38 The Princess of the School 

said ‘Certainly, my dear!’ We may each ask 
one friend, and we may spend two shillings 
amongst us on cakes, if we give the money and 
the list of what we want to Jones this afternoon, 
because he’s going into Glazebrook first thing to- 
morrow morning.” 

“ Only two shillings! ” commented Gowan. 

44 It will go no way! ” pouted Bertha. 

“Well, I can’t help it. Miss Walters said 
4 Two shillings ’ most emphatically.” 

44 You might have stuck out for more! Those 
iced cakes are always half a crown! ” 

44 1 didn’t dare to stick out for anything. I 
was so afraid she’d change her mind, and say 
4 There’s good plain home-made cake with your 
school-room tea, and you must be content with 
that,’ like she did to Nona and Muriel.” 

44 We could get twelve twopenny cakes for 
two shillings,” calculated Dulcie; “but if there 
are eight of us, that’s only one and a half 
apiece.” 

“ Best get eight twopenny iced cakes, and eight 
penny buns,” suggested Bertha, taking pencil and 
paper to write the important order. 

“Right-o! Only be sure you put pink iced 
cakes, they are so much the nicest.” 

“ Whom shall we ask? It won’t be much of a 
beano on two shillings. Still, they’ll be keen on 
coming, I expect.” 


39 


A Valentine Party 

Noreen, Phillida, Prissie, and Edith, the four 
finally selected favorites, accepted the invitation 
with alacrity. Bedroom tea-parties were in- 
dulgences only given to winners of three weeks’ 
dormitory records, so the less fortunate occupants 
of the Brown and Rose rooms were really profit- 
ing by the tidiness of their hostesses. The Blue 
Grotto was placed in apple-pie order on the after- 
noon of the fourteenth of February. A white 
hemstitched cloth and a bowl of snowdrops 
adorned the center table, and the cakes were set out 
on paper doilies. Both hostesses and guests were 
in the dining-hall by four o’clock, awaiting the 
appearance of the urns, and each bore her cup of 
tea and a portion of bread and butter and scones 
upstairs with her. 

It was a jolly party round the square table, and 
if the cakes were not too plentiful, they were at 
least voted delicious. The girls carried down the 
cups when they had finished, shook the table-cloth 
out of the window, carefully collected crumbs 
from the floor, so as to preserve their record for 
neatness, then gathered round the table again for 
an hour’s fun before the bell should ring for 
prep. 

“ It’s a Valentine party, and I’ve got a ripping 
idea,” said Gowan. u We’ll put our names on 
pieces of paper, fold them up, shuffle them and 
draw them; then each of us must write a valen- 


4 ° The Princess of the School 


tine to the one we’ve drawn. We’ll shuffle these, 
and one of us must read them all out. Then we 
must each guess who’s written our valentines.” 

“ Sounds rather brainy, doesn’t it? ” objected 
Noreen. “ I don’t think I’m any hand at 
poetry ! ” 

“ Oh! you can make up something if you try. 
Valentines are generally doggerel.” 

“Need it be quite original?” asked Edith. 

“ Well, if you really can’ t compose anything, 
we’ll allow quotations.” 

“Cracker mottoes?” suggested Dulcie. 

“ Exactly. They’re just about in the right 
style.” 

“ Are you all getting into a sentimental vein? ” 
giggled Bertha. “ Remember ‘ Love ’ rhymes 
with ‘ Dove,’ and Cupid with — with ” 

“ Stupid,” supplied Dulcie laconically. 

“ I’m not going to give my rhymes away be- 
forehand,” said Phillida. “ Is that shuffling 
business finished, Gowan? Then bags me first 
draw.” 

Each girl, having been apportioned the name of 
her valentine, set to work to compose a suitable 
ode in her honor. There was much knitting of 
brows and nibbling of pencils, and demands for a 
few minutes longer, when Gowan called “ Time ! ” 
At last, however, the effusions were all finished, 
folded, shuffled, and laid in a pile. Gowan, as 


4i 


A Valentine Party 

the originator of the game, was unanimously 
elected president. She drew one at a venture, 
opened it, and read: 

“TO PHILLIDA 

“ Fair maiden, who in ancient song 
Was wont to flout her swain, 

I prithee be not always coy, 

But turn your face again. 

My heart is true, and it will rue, 

That ever you should doubt me, 

So sweet, be kind, and change your mind, 

And don’t for ever flout me.” 

“ Who wrote that?” asked Phillida, glancing 
keenly round the circle. “ Noreen, I believe 
you're looking conscious ! I always suspect peo- 
ple who say they can’t write.” 

“I! No, indeed! ” declared Noreen. 

“ You may make guesses, but nobody’s to con- 
fess or deny authorship till the end,” put in 
Gowan hastily. 44 Remember, valentines are al- 
ways supposed to be anonymous. Now I’m go- 
ing to read another. 

“ TO LILIAS 

“ Cupid with his fatal dart 
Shot me through and made me smart, 

So I pray, before we part, 

Kiss me once, and heal my heart ! ” 


42 The Princess of the School 


“ Short and sweet! ” commented Edith. 

“ Very sweet — quite sugary, in fact,” agreed 
Lilias. “ It’s the sort of motto you get out of 
a superior cracker with gelatine paper on the out- 
side, and trinkets inside. There ought to be a 
ring with all that. I believe it’s Prissie’s, but 
I’m not sure it isn’t by Bertha.” 

“You mayn’t have two guesses!” reminded 
Gowan, reaching for another paper. “Hallo! 
this actually to me! I feel quite shy! ” 

“Go on! You’re not usually afflicted with 
shyness,” urged the others. 

“ TO GOWAN 

“ Wee modest, crimson-tipped flower, 

Thou’ st met me in an evil hour; 

For I maun gang far frae thy bower, 

And leave thee greeting ’mang the stour. 

But lassie, thou art no thy lane, 

This heart is also brak in twain, 

And like to burst with grief and pain 
To think I’ll see thee ne’er again.” 

“H’m! He might have signed ‘Robbie 
Burns’ at the end of it!” commented Gowan. 
“ Seems to take it for granted I’m doing half of 
the grieving. No, thanks! I prefer to ‘flout 
them ’ like Phillida. He may go away with his 
old broken heart if he likes. That’s not my idea 
of a valentine.” 


A Valentine Party 43 

“ There were bad valentines as well as good 
ones, weren’t there?” twinkled Dulcie. 

“ Certainly; and if I set this down to you, per- 
haps I’ll not be far out. Who comes next? Oh! 
Bertha.” 


“ TO BERTHA 

“ I have a little heart to let, 

As nice as nice can be; 

It’s vacant just at present, 

On a yearly tenancy. 

It's quite completely furnished 
With affection’s choicest store, 

Sweet nothings by the bushel, 

And kisses by the score. 

It sadly wants a tenant, 

This little heart of mine, 

So I beg that you will take it, 

And be my Valentine! ” 

“ Edith! Dulcie! Phillida ! — Oh ! I can’t 
guess! ” laughed Bertha. “ There’s not the least 
clue ! Go on, Gowan ! I’ll plump for Phil- 
lida.” 

The next on the list was — 

“TO NOREEN 

“ Cupid on his rosy wing 
Flits to offer you a ring: 

Take it, dear, and happy make 
One who’d die for your sweet sake ! ” 


44 The Princess of the School 

“ That’s the sugary type again, and suggests a 
cracker!” decided Noreen. “You feel there 
ought to be a big dish of trifle somewhere near.” 

“ I wish there were! ” chirped Edith. “ You 
haven’t guessed yet! ” 

“ Oh, well, I guess you! ” 

“ I hope it’s my turn next,” said Prissie. 

“ No, it happens to be Dulcie,” retorted 
Gowan. “ You’ll probably be the last of all.” 

“ TO DULCIE 

“ Oh, lady fair from Cheverley Chase, 

The day when first I saw your face 
Put me in such a fearful flutter 
I could do naught but moan and mutter. 
Whether Fm standing on my head, 

Or if I’m on my heels instead, 

I scarce can tell, for Cupid’s arrows 
Have made my brain like any sparrow’s. 

When you come near, my foolish heart 
Goes pit-a-pat with throb and start, 

And when I try my love to utter, 

My fairest speech is but a stutter. 

How to propose is all my task, 

Whether to write or just to ask, 

And ere I solve the problem knotty 
I really fear I shall go dotty. 

Oh, lady fair, in pity stop 
And list while I the question pop. 

’Tis here on paper; think it over, 

And let me be your humble lover.” 


A Valentine Party 


45 


“ Quite the longest of them all ! ” smiled Dulcie 
complacently. 

“But not as poetical as mine!” contended 
Noreen. 

“Oh, go on!” said Edith. “ I’m sure I’m 
next ! ” 

And so she was. 

“ TO EDITH 

“ Maiden of the swan-like neck, 

I am at your call and beck; 

If you will but wave a finger, 

In your neighborhood I’ll linger, 

Praise your eyes, and cheeks of roses, 

Bring you presents of sweet posies, 

Sweetheart,, if you will be mine, 

Let me be your Valentine! ” 

“I haven’t got a swan neck! It’s no longer 
than other people’s, I’m sure! ” protested Edith 
indignantly, looking round the circle for the of- 
fender. “Who wrote such stuff?” 

“There, don’t get excited, child!” soothed 
Gowan. “ 4 Edith of the Swan Neck ’ was a his- 
torical character. Don’t you remember? She 
ought to have married King Harold, only she 
didn’t, somehow. It’s meant as a compliment, 
no doubt ! ” 

“ I believe you wrote it yourself! ” 


46 The Princess of the School 

“ No, I didn’t. At least I mustn’t tell just yet. 
I’m going to read the last one now. 

“TO PRISSIE 

“ I am not sentimental, please, 

I cannot write in rhyme, 

I beg you’ll all ecstatics leave 
Until another time. 

But if I’m lacking in romance, 

At least my heart is true, 

And in its own prosaic way, 

It only beats for you. 

’Mong damsels all I think you are 
The nicest little Missie, 

And beg to have for Valentine 

That sweetest maid, Miss Prissi'e.” 

“Author! Author!” cried Prissie. “It’s 
Lilias, I do believe ! ” 

“Guessing’s been horribly wrong!” said 
Gowan. “ Only about one of you was right. 
Shall I read the list? 

“To Phillida by Dulcie. 

To Lilias by Noreen. 

To Gowan by myself. 

To Bertha by Phillida. 

To Noreen by Prissie. 

To Dulcie by Bertha. 

To Edith by Lilias. 

To Prissie by Edith.” 


47 


A Valentine Party 

“ So you wrote your own, Gowan! What a 
humbug you are! You quite put us off the 
scent! ” 

“ Well, I drew my own name, you see. I had 
to write something! Bertha ought to have a 
prize for guessing right, only we’ve nothing to 
give her. Shall we play something else? ” 

“ Prissie’s brought a pack of cards, and she says 
she’ll tell our fortunes,” proclaimed Edith. 

u I learnt how in the holidays,” confessed 
Prissie. “ A girl was staying with us who had a 
book about it. We used to have ripping fun 
every evening over it. Whose fortune shall I 
tell first? Oh, don’t all speak at once! Look 
here, you’d better each cut, and the lowest shall 
win.” 

Dulcie, who turned up an ace, was the lucky 
one, and was therefore elected as the first to con- 
sult the oracle. By Prissie’s orders she shuffled 
the cards, *then handed them back to the sorceress, 
who laid them out face upward in rows, and after 
a few moments’ meditation began her prophecies. 

“ You’re fair, and therefore the Queen of Dia- 
monds is your representative card — all the 
luck’s behind you instead of facing you. I see a 
disappointment and great changes. A dark 
woman is coming into your life. She’s connected 
somehow with money, but there are hearts be- 


48 The Princess of the School 

hind her. You’ll take a journey by land, and 
find trouble and perplexity.” 

“ Haven’t you anything nicer to tell me than 
that?” pouted Dulcie. “Who’s the dark 
woman? ” 

“ She seems to be a relation, by the way the 
cards are placed.” 

“ I haven’t any dark relations. They’re all as 
fair as fair — the whole family.” 

“It’s silly nonsense! I don’t believe in it!” 
declared Lilias emphatically. 

“ I dare say it is, but it’s fun, all the same. 
Do tell mine now, Prissie! ” urged Noreen, gath- 
ering up the cards and reshuffling them. 

Before the fates could be further consulted, 
however, the big bell clanged for preparation, 
and the magician was obliged to pocket her cards, 
hurry downstairs, get out her lesson books, and 
write a piece of French translation, while the in- 
quirers into her mysteries also separated, some to 
practise piano or violin, and some to study. 

“ A dark woman! ” scoffed Dulcie, spilling the 
ink in her scorn as she filled her fountain pen. 
“ Any gypsy would have told me a fortune like 
that. I’ll let you know when s'he comes along, 
Prissie ! ” 

“ All serene ! Bring her to school if you like ! ” 
laughed Prissie. “ You didn’t let me finish, or I 
might have gone on to something nicer. There 


A Valentine Party 49 

were other things on the cards as well as those.” 
“What things?” 

“ Oh, I shan’t tell you now, when you only 
make fun of them! Sh! sh! Here’s Miss Her- 
bert ! ” 

And Prissie, turning away from her comrade, 
opened her French dictionary and plunged into the 
difficulties of her page of translation from Racine. 


CHAPTER IV 


Disinherited 

Valentine’s Day had brought early flowers, and 
the song of the thrush and glints of golden sun- 
shine, but the bright weather was too good to last, 
and winter again stretched out an icy hand to 
check the advance of spring. Green daffodil 
buds peeped through a covering of snow, and the 
yellow jessamine blossom fell sodden in the rain. 
The playing-field was a quagmire, and the girls 
had to depend upon walking for their daily exer- 
cise. Their tramps were somewhat of an adven- 
ture, for in places the swollen brooks were wash- 
ing over the tops of their bridges, and they would 
be obliged to turn back, or go round by devious 
ways. The river in the valley had overflowed 
its banks and spread over the low r -lying meadows 
like a lake. Tops of gates and hedges appeared 
above the flood, and sea-gulls, driven inland by 
the gales, swam over the pastures. Flocks of 
peewits, starlings, and red-wings collected on the 
uplands, and an occasional heron might be seen 
flitting majestically across the storm-flecked sky. 
50 


Disinherited 


51 


As a rule the school sallied forth in water- 
proofs and thick boots, regardless of drizzle or 
slight snow, but on days of blizzard there was 
Swedish drill or dancing in the big class-room, to 
work off the superfluous energy accumulated dur- 
ing hours of sitting still at lessons. 

One afternoon, when driving sleet and showers 
swept past the house, and an inclement sky hid 
every hint of sunshine, the twenty girls, clad in 
their gymnasium costumes, were hard at work do- 
ing Indian club exercises. Dulcie, who stood in 
the vicinity of the window, could watch the rain- 
drops splashing on the pane, and see the wet tree- 
tops waving about in the wind, and runnels of 
water coursing down the drive like little rivulets. 
It was the sort of afternoon when nobody who 
could help it would choose to be out, and a visitor 
to the Hall seemed about the most unlikely event 
on the face of the earth. Judge her surprise, 
therefore, when she heard the hoot of a motor- 
horn, and the next instant saw, coming up the 
drive, the well-known Daimler touring car from 
Cheverley Chase. In her excitement she almost 
dropped her clubs. Had Cousin Clare come 
over to see them? Or had Everard a holiday? 
She longed to communicate the thrilling news to 
Lilias, but the music was still going on, and her 
arms must move in time to it. She waited in a 
flutter of expectation, revolving all kinds of de- 


52 The Princess of the School 

lightful possibilities that might occur. Cousin 
Clare would surely send a cake and a box of choc- 
olates, even if she had not come herself. Five 
minutes passed, then Davis, the parlor-maid, 
opened the door, and whispered a brief message 
to Miss Perkins. The mistress held up her hand 
and stopped the exercises. 

“ Lilias and Dulcie are wanted at once in the 
study,” she said. 

Amid the astonished looks of their companions, 
the two girls put down their clubs and left the 
room, Dulcie hastily telling her sister, as they 
hurried down the passage, how she had seen the 
car from the window. They tapped at the study 
door, and entered full of pleasant anticipation. 
Miss Walters was standing by the fire, with a 
letter in her hand. 

u Come in, girls,” she said gravely. “ I’ve 
sent for you because I have something very sad 
to tell you. Can you prepare your minds for a 
great shock? Your Grandfather was taken ill 
suddenly last night, and passed away this morning. 
Your cousin has sent the car to fetch you both 
home. Go at once and change your dresses, and 
Miss Harvey will help you to pack a few clothes. 
The chauffeur is having some tea, but you must 
not keep him waiting very long. I can’t tell you 
how grieved I am. You must be brave girls and 


Disinherited 


53 

try to comfort every one else at home. It will be 
a sad loss for you all.” 

Lilias and Dulcie went upstairs almost dazed 
with the unexpected bad news. They could 
hardly believe that their grandfather, whom they 
had left apparently in the best of health and 
spirits, could have gone away into that other 
world where Father and Mother and a little sis- 
ter had already passed over before. They packed 
in a sort of dream, drank the cups of tea which 
Miss Walters, full of kind sympathy, pressed upon 
them in the hall, greeted Milner, who was start- 
ing his engine, and entered the waiting car. Ow- 
ing to the floods, they took a roundabout route, 
but half an hour’s drive through sleet and rain 
brought them to Cheverley Chase. It was 
strange to see the blinds all down as they drew 
up at the house. As they ran indoors, Winder, 
the old butler, came from his pantry into the hall. 
They questioned him eagerly. He shook his 
head as he replied: 

“ It’s a sad business, Miss Lilias and Miss Dul- 
cie. He was just as usual yesterday, then about 
nine o’clock Miss Clare rang the bell violently, 
and when I came into the drawing-room, there 
was Master lying on the floor in a kind of fit. 
I telephoned to the doctor, and we got him to 
bed, but he never recovered consciousness. He 
went at eleven this morning, as you ’ll see by the 


54 The Princess of the School 

clock there. I stopped all the clocks at once. 
It’s the right thing to do in a house when the 
master dies. Miss Clare’s in her room. I’ll let 
her know you’ve arrived.” 

“ We’ll go and find her, thank you,” said Lilias, 
walking quietly upstairs. 

The Ingleton children were truly grieved at 
the loss of the grandfather who, for so many 
years, had stood to them in the place of a parent. 
They went softly about the house and spoke in 
hushed voices. Everything seemed strange and 
unusual. A dressmaker came from London with 
boxes of mourning for Cousin Clare and the girls; 
beautiful wreaths and crosses of flowers kept ar- 
riving and were carried upstairs. Mr. Bowden, 
the lawyer, was constantly in and out, making 
arrangements for the funeral; neighbors left 
cards with “ Kind sympathy ” written across the 
corner. Everard, who had arrived home shortly 
after his sisters, seemed to have grown years 
older. He walked with a new dignity, as of one 
who is suddenly called to fill a high position. 

“ I’ll be a good brother to you all,” he said to 
the younger ones. “ You must always look upon 
the Chase as your home, of course. I’ll do 
everything for you that Grandfather ever did, and 
more ! ” 

“ Will the Chase be yours now, then, Evar- 
ard? ” asked Bevis. 


Disinherited 


55 


“ I suppose so. I’m the eldest son, you see, 
and the property has always gone in the direct 
line. It was entailed until fifty years ago. I 
shan’t make any changes. I’ve told the ser- 
vants so, and they all said they wished to stay on. 
I wouldn’t part with Winder or Milner for the 
world! They’re part of the establishment.” 

“ I couldn’t imagine the place without them,” 
agreed Dulcie. 

On the afternoon before the funeral, Mr. Bow- 
den, who had motored over to make some final 
arrangements, concluded his business, drank a cup 
of tea in the drawing-room, and was escorted by 
Everard and Lilias through the hall. 

u The passing of the Squire is a sad loss to the 
neighborhood,” he remarked. “ He was a true 
type of the good old school of country gentlemen, 
and most of us feel ‘ we shall not look upon his 
like again.’ ” 

“ No,” replied Everard. “ It will be very hard 
to succeed him, I know, but I shall try to do my 
best.” 

Mr. Bowden started, looked at him musingly 
for a moment, knitted his brows, then apparently 
came to a decision. Instead of taking his hat 
and coat from Winder, he waved the two young 
people into the study, followed them, and shut the 
door. 

“ I want a word with you in private,” he be- 


56 The Princess of the School 

gan. “ I’m going to do a very unprofessional 
thing, but, as I’ve known you for years, I feel 
the case justifies me. I can’t let you come into the 
dining-room to-morrow, after the funeral, and 
hear your grandfather’s will read aloud, without 
giving you some warning beforehand of its con- 
tents. I hinted to you, Everard, at Christmas- 
time, not to count too much upon expectations.” 

“Why, but surely I am the heir?” burst out 
Everard with white lips. 

“ My poor boy, you are nothing of the sort. 
Your grandfather has willed the property to the 
child of his elder son, Tristram.” 

At that critical moment there was a rap at the 
door, and Winder, the butler, entered, respect- 
fully apologetic, to summon Mr. Bowden to the 
telephone. The lawyer answered the call, which 
was apparently a very urgent one, for, without 
another word to Everard and Lilias, he took hat 
and coat, hurried from the house, mounted his 
motor-cycle, and was gone. He left utter con- 
sternation behind him. The two young people, 
returning to the study, tried to face the disas- 
trous news. He had indeed told them no details, 
but the main outline was quite sufficient. They 
could scarcely accustom themselves to believe it 
for a moment or two. 

“ To bring me up as the heir, and then disin- 
herit me! ” gasped Everard. 


Disinherited 


57 


“ Why, everybody called you 4 the young 
squire’ ! ” exclaimed Lillias. 44 It’s unthinkable ! ” 
u Unthinkable or not, I’m afraid it’s true,” said 
Everar'd bitterly. 44 Bowden wouldn’t have told 
me otherwise. I suppose he drew up the will, so 
he knows what’s in it. Nice position to be in, 
isn’t it? Turned out to make room for some 
other chap ! ” 

44 Who is this child of Uncle Tristram’s? 
We’ve never heard of him.” 

44 It’ll be the kid who is in that photo, I sup- 
pose — Leslie. He looked about a year old in 
the portrait, and it’s thirteen years since Uncle 
Tristram died, so he’s probably fourteen or so 
now. To think of a kid of fourteen taking my 
place here! It’s monstrous! ” 

“ Oh, Everard, what shall we do? ” 

“ I don’t know. I’m going out to think it over. 
Don’t say a word about it to anybody yet. 
Promise me you won’t! ” 

Everard seized his cap and waterproof, and 
plunged out-of-doors into the rain. He did not 
return till dinner-time. If he was silent and pre- 
occupied at that meal, both Cousin Clare and Dul- 
cie set it down as natural to his new sense of re- 
sponsibility. Lilias looked at him uneasily. 
There was a hardness in his face which she had 
never seen there before. She longed to catch 
him alone and question him, but after dinner he 


58 The Princess of the School 

purposely avoided her, and left a message that he 
had gone to the stables. She would have liked to 
confide in Cousin Clare, but she had given her 
promise to keep the secret, and even Dulcie must 
not share it yet. The girls slept in separate 
rooms at home, so that when Lilias had said good 
night to the family she was alone. She went to 
bed, as a matter of course, but tossed about with 
throbbing heart and whirling brain. Mr. Bow- 
den’s information had effectually banished sleep. 
In about an hour, when the house was absolutely 
quiet, came a soft tap at her door. She jumped 
up hastily, threw on her dressing-gown, and 
opened it. Everard stood in the passage outside. 

“May I come in? I want to speak to you, 
Sissy! It’s important,” he whispered. 

“ I thought you had gone to bed,” said Lilias, 
admitting him, and dragging forward two basket 
chairs. “ What is it, Everard? Don’t look like 
that — you frighten me! ” 

Her brother had seated himself wearily, and 
buried his head in his hands. He raised two hag- 
gard eyes at her words. 

“ I’ve come to say good-by to you, Sis. I’m 
going away to-night! Don’t speak to me, for I’m 
not in a mood for argument! Do you think that 
I could stand by Grandfather’s grave to-morrow, 
when I know he has disinherited me? I tell you, 
I can’t I’m not going to stay and hear the will 


Disinherited 


59 


read! If I’m kicked out of the property, at 
least I’ll keep my dignity. Why, everybody on 
the estate believed I was the heir! Only this af- 
ternoon, Rogerson, the new under-gardener, asked 
me to keep him on, and Hicks said he’d serve me 
as faithfully as he’d served the old Squire. How 
could I face the servants when they knew the 
Chase wasn’t mine after all! The humiliation 
would be intolerable! No! I’ve all the Ingle- 
ton pride in me, and if I’m not to be master here, 
I’ll shake the dust of the place off my feet for 
ever. Grandfather will have made some pro- 
visions for you younger ones; he always promised 
to do that, and it’s right you should take it, but 
as for me, if he’s left me anything, I don’t mean 
to touch a penny of it — it must be all or nothing! 
You others are welcome to my share, whatever it 
is. I’m going out into the world to earn my own 
living.” 

He spoke forcibly, and with desperate earnest- 
ness.y To Lilias, watching him anxiously, he 
seemed in these few hours to have changed from 
a boy into a man. Eager words rose to her lips, 
but he stood up and stopped her. 

“ I’ve told you it’s no use arguing! My mind’s 
absolutely made up. I’ve ordered Elton to have 
the small car ready, and to drive me to Balderton 
to catch the midnight express to town- It’s the 
last order I shall give in this house. He looked 


6o The Princess of the School 


surprised, but he didn’t dare to question me. To- 
morrow everybody will know that I’ve no more 
authority here than the kids. I’ll be far away by 
then, thank goodness.” 

“ But, Everard, what are you going to do in 
London? How can you earn your own living? ” 
pressed Lilias. 

“ Sweep a crossing, or go to sea ! I don’t care 
two-pence what happens to me. Good-by, Sis, 
I’m off! You may tell the others to-morrow, if 
you like. No, I won’t promise to write! You’ll 
be better without me. I’ve closed this chapter of 
my life completely, and I’m going to begin a dif- 
ferent one. The two won’t bear mixing up.” 

Giving his sister a hasty kiss, Everard left the 
room and walked softly away down the passage. 
A few minutes later, Lilias heard the sound of 
wheels, and, looking through the window, saw the 
rear lights of the car disappearing down the drive, 
and away across the park. She went back to bed, 
sobbing. 


CHAPTER V 


The New Owner 

The wild wind and rain, which for some weeks 
had blown from the north, changed suddenly to 
a southerly breeze, and the sun shone out in all 
its spring glory on the day of Mr. Ingleton’s 
funeral. Half the countryside came to do honor 
to “ the old Squire.” He had been a favorite 
in the neighborhood, and people forgot his auto- 
cratic ways and remembered now only his many 
kindnesses. The absence of Everard, who should 
have been the chief representative of the family, 
caused universal comment, and some rumor of 
the state of affairs began to be passed round 
among the servants and guests. Cousin Clare, to 
whom Lilias had confided the secret of her 
brother’s flight, shook her head. 

“ He might at least have shown his grandfather 
the respect of following him to his grave! ” she 
commented. “ He owed that to him, at any rate. 
I thought Everard would have realized such an 
obvious duty. Whatever comes or does not come 
to us in the way of legacies cannot free us from 
61 


62 The Princess of the School 


our obligations to the dead. It seems to me 
hardly decent to be thinking about the disposal of 
the property while its late owner is still unburied.” 

Lilias crept away, crying. She knew there was 
justice in Cousin Clare’s scathing judgment, but 
she was sure the latter did not, could not, under- 
stand the extent of Everard's bitter disappoint- 
ment. She did not care to say any more, or ask 
questions, and*could only wait until the whole sad, 
miserable affair was over. Some of the guests 
returned to the house after the funeral, and these, 
with the family, were present when Mr. Bowden 
read aloud the will of the late Squire of Cheverley 
Chase. Like most testamentary documents, it 
was couched in legal terms, but Lilias and Dulcie, 
sitting in their black dresses beside Cousin Clare, 
grasped the main features. There were certain 
legacies to servants and friends, a provision for 
each of the grandchildren and for Cousin Clare, 
then the entire residue of the estate was be- 
queathed to “ Leslie, only child of my .elder son, 
Tristram.” 

All, except the few who had known the secret 
beforehand, were filled with surprise that Ever- 
ard, who had always been regarded in the neigh- 
borhood as “ the young squire ” should have been 
passed over in favor of another heir. The 
guests, however, after a word or two of sympathy, 
took their departure, and went away to spread 


The New Owner 63 

the news, leaving the family alone to discuss mat- 
ters among themselves. 

“ So I suppose the Chase isn’t our home any 
longer?” asked Dulcie, as the young Ingletons 
clustered round their cousin for explanations. 
“Who is this Leslie? We’ve never heard any- 
thing of him before.” 

“ I didn’t know Uncle Tristram had a son! ” 
said Roland. 

“ Will everything be his instead of Ever- 
ard’s? ” asked Bevis pitifully. 

“ No, and yes,” replied Cousin Clare. “ The 
estate is certainly left to Leslie, but, as it happens, 
she is a daughter, and not a son.” 

Here was a surprise indeed! 

“A daughter!” echoed Lilias. “The Chase 
left to a girl ! ” 

“ Remember, she is the daughter of the elder 
son, so that in your grandfather’s opinion she was 
the lawful heiress.” 

“ But where does she live? ” 

“ How old is she? ” 

“ Why have we never seen her? ” 

“ It’s a long story,” said Cousin Clare. “ But, 
without going into any details, I can tell you 
briefly that years ago your grandfather and your 
Uncle Tristram had a serious quarrel. It was 
about a lady whom your grandfather thought his 
elder son loved, and whom he very much wished 


6 4 The Princess of the School 

him to marry. Well, we can’t love to order, and, 
though Tristram liked and respected the pros- 
pective bride whom his father had chosen for him, 
he had given his heart to a beautiful Italian girl, 
and he insisted upon marrying her. The affair 
caused a complete breach between them, but 
shortly before Tristram’s death he patched up a 
half reconciliation, and sent home a photograph 
of his wife and little daughter, whom he named 
‘ Leslie ’ after her grandfather. I believe some 
years ago an effort was made to bring the child 
over to England to be educated, but her mother, 
who by that time was married again and living in 
Sicily, refused to give her up to her English re- 
lations. I have never seen her myself, but she 
must be quite fourteen years old by now. It will 
be a great surprise to her to learn that she suc- 
ceeds to the property.” 

“ And a great disappointment to us,” said 
Lilias bitterly. “ It seems most unfair, when 
we’ve lived at the Chase all these years, that this 
interloper should step in and turn us out of our 
home.” 

“ I hate her! ” declared Clifford, clenching his 
little fists. 

“ No, no, dears! Don’t take it in that way! ” 
begged Cousin Clare. u Remember that, after 
all, the Chase was Grandfather’s property, and 
he had absolute right to leave it to whom he 


The New Owner 65 

pleased. He stood in the place of parents to 
you all, but that did not mean that he must will 
the estate to Everard. Leslie is also his grand- 
child, and belongs to the elder branch of the 
family. He has left you each a most generous 
legacy, so that there is plenty for your education. 
I don’t know what arrangements will be made for 
you, but Mr. Bowden is one of your guardians, 
and he is such a kind friend that I am sure he 
can be thoroughly trusted to take good care of 
your affairs. Try to look on the bright side of 
things. Matters might be so much worse.” 

In Lilias’s opinion, at any rate, matters were 
quite bad enough. As Everard’s particular chum, 
she took his disinheritance more hardly than Dul- 
cie. She wondered what he was doing in Lon- 
dan, and if he would send her his address. It 
angered her that Mr. Bowden took his departure 
quite calmly, and seemed to think he would turn 
up again in a few days, when he had spent the 
money he had taken with him. She knew her 
brother too well for that, and was sure that his 
pride would not allow him to return either to Chev- 
erley or to Harrow in the character of a disap- 
pointed heir. In that respect she could entirely 
sympathize with him. She and Dulcie went back 
to Chilcombe Hall at the beginning of the next 
week, and, though all their companions were very 
kind and sympathetic, it was humiliating to be 


66 The Princess of the School 


obliged to acknowledge that the Chase was no 
longer virtually their home. For the present, as 
the heiress was a minor, the estate was in the 
hands of the executors. Mr. Bowden decided to 
send Bevis and Clifford to the same preparatory 
school as Roland, and Cousin Clare, after various 
letters and telegrams, departed on a mission to 
Sicily, to interview Leslie’s mother and stepfather. 
What the purport of her visit might be, the girls 
had as yet no hint. 

The weeks dragged wearily on towards Easter. 
Though Dulcie might throw herself into hockey 
or basket ball, to Lilias school interests seemed 
to have lost their former zest. She wondered 
where they were to spend their holidays. Various 
friends had extended invitations, but Mr. Bow- 
den, to whom everything must now be referred, 
had not yet written to consent. At last came his 
reply. 

“ I have arranged for you and your sister to 
spend your holidays as usual at the Chase. Miss 
Clare will be arriving back from Sicily, and will 
bring your cousin Leslie with her. They would 
like you to be at home to receive them.” 

Lilias, showing the letter to Dulcie in the pri- 
vacy of the Blue bedroom, simply raged. 

“ It’s too bad! When we were so keen to go 
to London, too! Why should we be there to 


The New Owner 67 

receive Madame Leslie, I should like to know. 
I don’t want to see her! ” 

“ Neither do I, only I do wonder what she’s 
like, all the same,” ventured Dulcie. “ Can she 
speak English? And will she take over the whole 
place, and make us feel it’s hers? ” 

“ No doubt she will. We shall have to take 
very back seats indeed! It’s just too disgusting 
for words. I really think Mr. Bowden needn’t 
have forced this upon us.” 

“ The girls will be ever so sorry for us ! ” 

“ I know; and that’s just what I hate. I can’t 
bear to be pitied.” 

The Easter exodus seemed very different indeed 
from the happy breaking up of last Christmas. 
No “ Rajah ” and “ Peri ” with glossy coats and 
arching necks came to take Lilias and Dulcie 
from school, and give them the delight of a ride 
over the hills, though Milner arrived with the 
car, and told them that he was to fetch their 
three younger brothers on the following morning. 
The Chase seemed lonely and deserted with no- 
body to welcome them except the servants. It 
brought back vividly those few sad days of drawn 
blinds, and the memory of the long black line 
slowly disappearing down the drive. They had 
supper by themselves, and spent a very quiet eve- 
ning reading in the drawing-room. The advent 
next day of Roland, Bevis, and Clifford certainly 


68 The Princess of the School 


enlivened the atmosphere, and things would have 
felt like old times again had it not been for the 
shadow of the arrival of the heiress. A telegram 
had been received from Cousin Clare announcing 
the train, and the car was to meet them at the 
station on that same evening. Winder and the 
other servants were bustling about getting the 
house in order for its new mistress. A log fire 
was lighted in the hall, and plants in pots were car- 
ried in from the conservatory. The Union Jack 
fluttered from over the porch, and the gardener 
had put up some decorations with the word “ Wel- 
come.” 

Five very sober young people stood in the draw- 
ing-room and watched as the car came up the 
drive to the front door. Next minute they heard 
Cousin Clare’s cheerful voice calling to them, and 
they came shyly forth into the hall. 

Standing on the Persian rug in front of the log 
fire was a girl of about fourteen, an erect, slen- 
der, graceful little figure, with dark silky hair 
hanging in loose curls, and wonderful bright eyes 
that were dark and yet full of light and seemed to 
shine like stars. For an instant she included the 
Ingletons in one comprehensive glance, then her 
whole face broke into eager smiles. 

“ I know which of you is which! Lilias, Dul- 
cie, Roland, Bevis, Clifford! ” she declared, shak- 
ing hands with each. “ I’m very rich to have five 


The New Owner 


69 

new cousins all at once! To-morrow you must 
show me everything, the rabbits and the dogs, and 
the tame jackdaw! Oh yes! IVe been hearing 
about them and about you! Cousin Clare told 
me just what you would be like. I kept asking 
her questions the whole way! ” 

She spoke prettily, and without a trad of a for- 
eign accent; her manner was warm and friendly. 
She looked, indeed, as if she would like to kiss 
her new relations. She was so entirely different 
from what the Ingletons had expected, that in their 
utter amazement they could think of nothing to 
say in reply, and stood gazing at her in embar- 
rassed silence. Cousin Clare saved the situation. 

“Carmel, child, you’re tired out!” she de- 
creed. “ I’m going to take you straight upstairs 
and put you to bed. Thirty-six hours of traveling 
is too much for anybody, and you never slept in 
the train. Come along! You must make friends 
with your cousins to-morrow.” 

Long afterwards, when Dulcie tried to analyze 
her first impressions of the new-comer, she realized 
that what struck her most was the extreme charm 
of her personality. We have all possibly gone 
through a similar psychic experience of meeting 
somebody against whom we had conceived a bit- 
ter prejudice, and finding our intended hatred 
suddenly veer round into love. The effect is like 
stepping out into what you imagine will be a bliz- 


70 The Princess of the School 

zard, and finding warm sunshine. The little mis- 
tress of the Chase was very weary with her long 
journey, but, when at last she was sufficiently 
rested to be shown round her demesne, she made 
her royal progress with an escort of half-fasci- 
nated cousins. 

“ You’fl like to see your property,” Lilias be- 
gan shyly, leading the way into the garden. 

“Please don’t call it mine. I want you all to 
understand, at the very beginning, that it’s still 
your home, and I don’t wish to take it from you. 
I have my own dear home in Sicily, and I hope to 
go back there some day. While I’m in England, 
let me be your visitor. That’s all I want. I 
can’t bear to think that I’m taking anybody’s place, 
or anything that ought to belong to some one else. 
If only Mother were here, she’d explain prop- 
erly.” 

u But it is yours, Leslie! ” objected Dulcie. 

“In a way yes, but in another way, no! It 
can be mine and yours at the same time. And 
please will you call me Carmel? Leslie is a boy’s 
name, not a girl’s. I’m always Carmel at home. 
I didn’t want to leave home at all, but Mother 
and Daddy said I must go with Cousin Clare 
when she had come all the way to Sicily to fetch 
me. They promised it should be only a visit.” 

Lilias and Dulcie could hardly believe the evi- 
dence of their ears. They had expected Carmel 


The New Owner 


71 


to be appraising her new property with keen sat- 
isfaction, instead of which she appeared to be 
suffering from a bad attack of homesickness. 
She looked at the gardens, the stables, and all the 
pets with interest, but without any apparent sense 
of proprietorship. Her behavior was exactly 
that of an ordinary visitor who admires a friend’s 
possessions. In her talk she referred constantly 
to her home in Sicily, to her stepfather and her 
younger brothers and sisters. They and her 
mother were evidently the supreme center of her 
life. 

“ We thought you’d only know Italian,” con- 
fided Dulcie, whose shyness was beginning to wear 
off. 

Carmel laughed. 

“ Of course I talk Italian too, but we always 
speak English at home. Isn’t it strange that 
mother should have married two Englishmen? I 
can’t remember my own father at all, but Daddy is 
a dear, and we’re tremendous friends. I’ve 
brought his photo, and Mother’s and the chil- 
dren’s. I’ll show them to you when I’ve un- 
packed.” 

Carmel’s astounding attitude, while it amazed 
her cousins in the extreme, was certainly highly 
satisfactory. The boys, when they realized that 
she had no desire to wrest their pets from them, 
waxed suddenly friendly. With the naive im- 


72 The Princess of the School 

pulsiveness of childhood they gave her a full ac- 
count of what they had expected her to be. 

“ Perhaps I was rather frightened of you too, 
till I saw you all,” she confessed. “ We’ve none 
of us turned out such dreadful bogies, have we? ” 
“ Do you know what I’m going to call you? ” 
said Clifford, slipping a plump hand into hers, and 
gazing up into the shining brown eyes. “Princess 
Carmel ! ” 

And Carmel bent down and kissed him. 


CHAPTER VI 


Princess Carmel 

In the long talk which Cousin Clare had had 
with Mr. and Mrs. Greville in Sicily, it had been 
arranged that Carmel was to be sent to school 
with Lilias and Dulcie at Chilcombe Hall. The 
new term, therefore, saw her established in a lit- 
tle dressing-room which led out of the Blue bed- 
room, and which by good luck happened to be 
vacated by Evie Hughes, who had left at Easter. 
It was soon spread over with Carmel’s private pos- 
sessions. They were different from the equip- 
ment of an ordinary English schoolgirl, and 
aroused as much interest as their owner. First 
there were the portraits of her mother, of her 
stepfather, Mr. Greville, and of the little half- 
brothers and sisters — Bertram, Nina, Vincent, 
and Luigia — taken by an Italian photographer in 
wonderfully artistic poses, and with classic back- 
grounds of pillars and palm trees. Then there 
were fascinating snapshots of her home, a white 
Sicilian house with a vine-covered veranda, and 
its lovely half-tropical garden w T ith fountains and 
73 


74 The Princess of the School 

statues and pomegranate blossom, and trees hung 
with ripe oranges and lemons. Carmel's things 
seemed nearly all foreign. Her nightdress case 
was of drawn linen beautifully embroidered by 
the nuns at a convent; her work-box was of in- 
laid wood from Sorrento; the trinkets on her 
dressing-table were Italian; her clothes and shoes 
bore the names of Paris shops. Some of the 
books she had brought with her were in French; 
the calendar that hung on her wall held pictures 
of Naples and Vesuvius. 

Carmel was undoubtedly a most unusual com- 
bination of two nationalities. Though in some 
respects she was English enough, there was a cer- 
tain little gracious dignity and finish about her 
manners that was peculiarly southern. Clifford, 
with a child’s true instinct, had named her “ Prin- 
cess.” She was indeed “ royal ” with that best 
type of good breeding which gives equal courtesy 
to all, be it queen or beggar. In the school she 
was soon an immense favorite. The girls ad- 
mired her attitude towards Lilias and Dulcie. If 
she had posed as the heiress of the Chase, they 
would probably have “ sat upon her ” thor- 
oughly, but, as she never put forward her claims in 
that respect, they were disposed to show her de- 
cided consideration, all the more so as she was 
visibly fretting for her Sicilian home. She put 
a brave face on things in the day-time, but at night 


Princess Carmel 


IS 

she would be caught crying, and her eagerness for 
letters was pathetic. 

“ Poor child! She’s like an exotic plant trans- 
ferred to a northern soil!” said Miss Walters. 
“ We must try to settle her somehow. It won’t 
do for her to go about with dark rings round 
her eyes. I wonder how we could possibly in- 
terest her? I don’t believe our school happen- 
ings appeal to her in the least.” 

Certainly the new-comer went through the or- 
dinary routine of classes, walks, and games with- 
out any display of enthusiasm. Gowan Barbour 
tried to coach her at cricket, but the result was 
not successful. 

“ It’s a boy’s game, and the ball is so hard, it 
hurts my hands! ” objected Carmel. 

“ Didn’t you play cricket at home? ” 

“Never!” 

“ Or tennis? ” 

“ On a cinder court. The sun scorched up our 
grass court.” 

“ What used you to do then, to amuse your- 
self? ” 

“ We made paper dresses for the carnival, and 
sometimes we acted. We used to have plays on 
the veranda, or in the garden. And we went 
on picnics to the hills. It was beautiful there in 
spring, when the anemones were out in the fields.” 

“We’re to have a picnic next Saturday,” an- 


76 The Princess of the School 

nounced Gowan; “ I heard Miss Walters telling 
Miss Herbert so.” 

It was perhaps with special reference to Car- 
mel that Miss Walters had arranged an outing 
for the school. It was bluebell time, and the 
woods in the neighborhood would be a show. By 
permission of the owner, Sir Ranald Joynson, 
they were to have access to large private grounds, 
and to be allowed to ramble in his famous rho- 
dodendron gardens. None of the girls had ever 
been there before, so it was a treat for all. Mo- 
tor wagonettes were to convey them all the six 
miles; they were to start after an early lunch, and 
to take tea baskets with them. Even Carmel 
cheered up at the pleasant prospect. 

“You have a treat before you!” Dulcie as- 
sured her. “ You may talk about your Sicilian 
flowers, but just wait till you have seen an English 
wood full of blue-bells ! There’s nothing to beat 
it in the whole world. I’ve often heard of Sir 
Ranald Joynson’s grounds. We’re in luck to get 
leave to go in them, because I believe he’s gener- 
ally rather stingy about allowing people there. 

I wonder how Miss Walters managed it.” 

“ She’s a clever woman,” said Gowan. “ She 
always seems to manage to get what she wants. 
Some people do ! ” 

“I wish / did!” wailed Bertha. “I’ve 
wanted a principal part in the French plays ever 


Princess Carmel 77 

since I came to school, and Mademoiselle never 
will give me one; I always have to be a servant, 
or an extra guest, and speak about two lines ! ” 

“Well, your French accent is so atrociously 
bad, I don’t wonder! ” returned Gowan. “ You 
certainly wouldn’t be a credit to Mademoiselle 
in a principal part. And you’re very stiff and 
wooden in acting, too ! ” 

“Thank you for your compliments!” sniffed 
Bertha, much offended. 

“Oh, don’t be sarkie! I must tell the truth. 
Cheer up ! It’s a picnic on Saturday, not a 
French play!” , 

“ Thank goodness it is! ” rejoiced Dulcie. “ I 
hate Mademoiselle’s French afternoons! I don’t 
know which is worst; to have to learn and act 
yards of dialogue, or to sit in the audience and 
listen while other people show off. I like out- 
of-doors treats! I’m an open-air girl.” 

The occupants of the Blue bedroom decided 
that it was high time something happened to stir 
up Carmel, who was behaving more like an exile 
than an heiress. Now the first excitement of her 
arrival and unpacking was over, she had relapsed 
into a piteous fit of homesickness. 

“I believe she’s crying again!” said Dulcie, 
laying an ear to the door that communicated with 
the dressing-room. “ Do you- think I ought to 
go in to her? ” 


78 The Princess of the School 

“ It’s no use! ” declared Lilias. “ I went last 
night and tried to comfort her, and I’m sure I only 
made her cry harder. Best leave her to herself.” 

“ Homesick people always do cry harder if 
you sympathize,” proclaimed Gowan. “ I was 
prefect of the junior dormitory at my other school 
before I came here, and the new kids always 
turned on the water works at first. I learnt how 
to manage them. Sympathy makes them worse. 
What you want is to switch their minds off think- 
ing about home, and make them enjoy school life. 
Carmel will come round in time.” 

“ Meantime,” said Bertha, “ she reminds me of 
that picture in Miss Walters’ study: ‘The Hos- 
tage.’ You know the one I mean, the girl who’s 
standing leaning over the castle wall and gazing 
out to sea, and evidently thinking of her own 
country. I wonder if princesses who were sent 
to be married to foreign princes felt homesick? ” 

“ I dare say they did,” grunted Gowan, “ but 
I’m sure my plan’s the best for curing the com- 
plaint. Smack them on the back and make them 
cheer up, instead of letting them weep on your 
shoulder. I don’t like a damp atmosphere! ” 

To do Carmel justice, however acute her sense 
of exile might be, she had not obtruded her woes 
upon her schoolfellows, and had conducted her 
weeping in secret. If sounds of distress filtered 
through the door, it was only when matters 


Princess Carmel 


79 


seemed particularly hopeless. On Saturday she 
came down dressed for the jaunt, and all smiles. 

“ Sit her between Edith and Bertha,” com- 
manded Gowan, “ and tell them they may be their 
silliest! Make her laugh till she’s weak. I’ll 
take a turn at her myself later. Don’t let her 
mope about in the woods alone. Keep close to 
her, and make all the insane jokes you can. I 
tell you I was homesick myself once, though you 
mayn’t believe it. I don’t often dab my eyes 
now, do I ? ” 

“ Here are the wagonettes,” said Dulcie. 
“ Why, that driver has stuck up a flag! How 
nice of him ! It looks so festive. Bags me go 
in his chariot.” 

It took a little while to arrange mistresses, 
girls, and tea-baskets inside the two motors, but 
at last everything was packed in, and they started 
off in the direction of Bradstone. Other people 
were out enjoying Saturday’s holiday, and cars, 
bicycles, and conveyances were frequent on the 
road. Grinsdale Park, their destination, was ap- 
proached by great gates, outside which the wag- 
onettes stopped and unloaded their passengers. 
Miss Walters, armed with Sir Ranald Joynson’s 
letter, called at the lodge for permission to enter, 
and, her credentials being in strict order, the party 
was duly admitted. 

“Won’t everybody who sees us go in be just 


8o The Princess of the School 


green with envy? ” rejoiced Edith. “ Did you see 
how those two cyclists tried to hang on to us and 
push in too? Miss Walters looked at them most 
witheringly. 4 May I ask if you have a private 
permit?’ I heard her say to them. It squashed 
them flat, and they beat a retreat.” 

“ I believe Sir Ranald used to let the public in 
at one time,” said Noreen, 44 but people behaved 
so atrociously that he had to stop. Rough boys 
used to tear about and break the bushes, and take 
the flowers, and do a great deal of damage.” 

“I know! Eve heard about it,” said Lilias. 
“ They went bird-nesting, too, and took all the 
eggs. That was the absolute finish. Sir Ranald 
is very keen on natural history, and he keeps these 
grounds as a sort of bird sanctuary. I believe 
quite rare kinds build here, and he never lets them 
be disturbed.” 

44 I wonder he gave us a permit to come! ” 

“ Well, you see, most of the young birds are 
fledged by now, and, besides, he wouldn’t expect 
us to go about climbing trees and robbing nests ! ” 
Carrying the picnic-baskets amongst them, the 
party started forth along the drive, but after ten 
minutes’ walking turned down a bypath into the 
woods. They were at the edge of a beautiful 
lake, and on one side of them stretched a gleam- 
ing expanse of water, edged with shimmering 
reeds, and on the other grew thick groves of trees 


Princess Carmel 


81 


with a carpet of wild hyacinths beneath. The sun 
glinted through the new green leaves on to the 
springing bracken and bluebells, and made long 
rifts of light across the water, birds were flitting 
about and twittering in the trees, and everywhere 
there was that delicious scent of the woodlands, 
a mixture of honey and flowers and warm moist 
earth and damp moss, which is the incense nature 
burns at the shrine of the goddess of spring. 

It was so lovely that the party straggled con- 
siderably. They could not help putting down the 
picnic-baskets and leaving the path to explore and 
gather flowers. There were so many delightful 
surprises. Phillida and Noreen noticed a' moor- 
hen’s nest built on an overhanging bough that 
swept the lake, and saw four tiny downy creatures 
swimming away very fast to take cover; Ursula 
found a specimen of the Truelove-knot, and tri- 
umphed immensely, partly on botanical grounds 
and partly because she regarded it as an omen of 
early matrimony, though needless to say this lat- 
ter aspect of her rejoicing was not communicated 
to Miss Walters, only chuckled over in private 
with her intimate friends. 

Knowing that the girls would not do any dam- 
age, the mistresses allowed them to disperse, on 
the understanding that they came at once when 
they heard the Guide’s whistle. 

Dulcie, Carmel, and Prissie had wandered 


82 The Princess of the School 


away down the banks of the little stream where 
grew pale marsh violets, golden globeflowers, and 
the sweet-scented fern. Pushing through the un- 
dergrowth above the water, they found them- 
selves in a tiny natural clearing such as poets of 
old would have described as a “ a bower.” Bud- 
ding trees encircled it, a guelder rose .bush over- 
topped it, and delicate fern-like moss sprang 
through the grass underfoot. There were fairies, 
too, in the bower; four little whitethroats were 
flitting about in the sunshine. It was perhaps 
their first exodus from the nest, for as yet they 
were without the slightest sense of fear. They 
allowed the girls to catch them, fondle them, and 
stroke their lovely plumage; they would fly deli- 
cately away, twittering with pleasure, then flit 
back to the caressing hands like sprites at play. 
Anything more innocent and beautiful it would 
have been impossible to conceive; it was like a 
glimpse into Paradise before the fear and dread 
of man had passed over God’s lesser creatures. 
The girls stood absolutely fascinated, till at last, 
attracted perhaps by some warning mother-signal, 
their dainty bird friends took a sudden rapid 
flight into the woods and were gone. Carmel 
looked after them with shining eyes. 

“ It’s like St. Francis of Assissi and his ‘ little 
sisters the birds,’ ” she said softly. “ Have you 
read the Little Flowers of St. Francis, and how 


Princess Carmel 


83 


he preached to the swallows and they all flocked 
round him and twittered? Fve never seen birds 
so tame as this ! They aren’t in Sicily, you can 
hardly ever get near them there.” 

“ They aren’t in England either,” said Dulcie, 
“ though our gamekeeper told us that if you can 
just chance to see them when they first leave the 
nest, they don’t know what fear is. He once 
found some newly-hatched wild ducks, and they 
were perfectly unafraid, but when he passed the 
place half an hour later, the mother duck gave a 
call, and the little ones wouldn’t let him come 
anywhere near them. They’d had their lesson, 
and learnt fear.” 

“ I once brought up a starling that had tumbled 
out of a nest,” said Prissie, “ and it was always 
perfectly tame, and would let me stroke it, and 
would perch on my hand. I had it for years. 
Do you think we could have kept the white- 
throats? ” 

“ No, no ! ” said Carmel quickly. “ I’d as soon 
think of caging fairies ! It would be a shame to 
take them out of this lovely wood; it’s their fairy- 
land. I’m so glad Sir Ranald doesn’t allow boys 
to come in here ! I thought at first it was rather 
selfish of him, but I begin to understand. There 
must be some quiet places left where the birds can 
be undisturbed. I’m glad to have seen thes'e!” 

Miss Walter’s whistle, sounding loudly in the 


&4 The Princess of the School 


distance, recalled them to the path. They found 
the school very excited over a heronry which they 
could see on an island in the lake. Some large 
untidy nests were in the trees, and every now and 
then a heron, with long legs outstretched behind 
it, would sail majestically through the air from 
the mainland. 

“ It would be a very fishy place if we could get 
near,” remarked Miss Hardy. “ All the ground 
underneath the nests would be strewn with bones 
and remains. The herons fly a tremendous long 
way .in search of food, sometimes a radius of as 
much as forty miles. Look! there’s one fishing 
in the lake over there.” 

“ I like the whitethroats best,” said Dulcie. 
“ I shouldn’t care to hold a young heron in my 
hand and cuddle it ! ” 

At the lower end of the lake was a hill-side, and 
down the slopes Sir Ranald had caused to be 
planted a little forest of rhododendrons. They 
were in their prime, and stretched a beautiful mass 
of every shade from crimson to pink and laven- 
der. On the top of the hill was a summer-house, 
a temple-like building with pillars and steps, and 
here, by arrangement, they expected the lodge- 
keeper’s wife to supply them with boiling water 
for their tea. It looked an ideal place for a pic- 
nic, and they started at once to climb the steep 
path that led among the rhododendrons to the 


Princess Carmel 8 5 

summit. Up and up under the screen of delicate 
blossom, they felt as if they were treading in some 
tropical garden, and when they reached the sum- 
mit, and the view burst upon them of crimson- 
clad slope, gleaming lake, and flecked blue sky, 
they stood gazing with much satisfaction. “ The 
Temple,” as the girls called the summer-house, 
was a classic building with a terrace in front, and 
here the school elected to sit, instead of in the 
rather cramped room. There was a kitchen at 
the back, and Mrs. Bates, the lodge-keeper’s wife, 
had lighted a fire and boiled kettles in readiness 
for them. 

“ Sir Ranald and his friends come for lunch 
here sometimes in the shooting season,” she ex- 
plained, “ so I’m used to getting tea and coffee 
made. Take some chairs outside if you like. 
You’d rather sit on the steps! Well, there’s no 
accounting for tastes! Give me your teapots, 
and I’ll warm them before you put the tea into 
them.” 

Sitting in a row on the steps that led from the 
“ temple ” to the terrace, the girls had a glorious 
view, Carmel in especial seemed particularly to 
enjoy herself. 

“ It’s more like home than anything I’ve seen 
yet! ” she declared enthusiastically. “ I could al- 
most fancy that this little piazza is on the slope 
of Etna ! The goatherds ought to be playing the 


86 The Princess of the School 


4 Pastorale 1 down there ! I can nearly hear 
them ! ” 

“ What’s the 4 Pastorale ’ ? ” asked Dulcie. 

“ It’s the Sicilian National Dance. Every 
body dances it — sometimes by sunlight and some- 
times by moonlight. Oh! it’s a thing that gets 
into your blood! Once you hear it played on the 
pipes you have to jump up and dance — you 
simply can’t help it. There’s magic in it! ” 

“ Dance it for us now on the terrace ! ” sug- 
gested Dulcie. 

“ I’ve no music! ” 

“ Can’t you hum it? Miss Walters, may Car- 
mel show us a Sicilian dance? ” 

“By all means, if she will!” acquiesced the 
head-mistress. 

“Go on Carmel!” commanded the girls. 
“ Show us how it goes! ” 

Thus urged, Carmel rose from her seat, and 
went on to the terrace at the foot of the steps. 
She looked for a moment or two at the crimson 
slope of flowers and the shining lake, as if to put 
herself into the right mental atmosphere, then, 
humming a lively but haunting tune, she began 
her old-world southern dance. 

It was wonderful dancing, every action of her 
alert young body was so beautifully graceful that 
you forgot her modern costume and could imagine 
her a nymph in classic draperies. Her arms kept 


Princess Carmel 


87 


motion with her tripping feet, and both were in 
time with the tune that she was trilling. It 
seemed a spontaneous expression of gaiety as 
natural as the flight of a dragon-fly or the sporting 
of a kitten. Her dark hair flew out behind her, 
her eyes shone and sparkled, and her cheeks 
flushed with unwonted color. For the moment 
she looked the very incarnation of joy, and might 
have been Artemis surprised in a Sicilian grove. 
It was such a fresh aspect of Carmel that the girls 
stared at her in amazement. From Princess she 
had changed to Oread, and they did not know her 
in this new mood. They gave her performance 
a hearty clap, however, as she stopped and sank 
panting on to the steps. 

“ You’ll have to turn dancing-mistress, Carmel, 
and give the others a lesson in your Pastorale,” 
said Miss Walters. “ It’s a pretty step, and we 
shall ask you to do it again when we give our 
garden fete in aid of the ‘ Waifs and Strays.’ 
Don’t you think our English scenery can compare 
favorably even with your beloved Sicily?” 

“ It’s very beautiful,” admitted Carmel, “ but 
I miss Etna in the distance.” 

“ Then you won’t yield us the palm? ” laughed 
Miss Walters. 

“ I love it all, I do indeed, but Sicily will always 
be the most beautiful place in the world to me, 
because it’s home ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


An Old Greek Idyll 

After the picnic at Bradstone, Carmel, pos- 
sibly from something she heard the girls say about 
her, seemed to make a supreme effort to over- 
come her homesickness, and to settle down as an 
ordinary and rational member.of the school. She 
was undoubtedly a favorite. Even Lilias admit- 
ted her charm, though she had not fallen under 
her spell so completely as Dulcie. At the bottom 
of her heart, Lilias could not quite forgive Car- 
mel for supplanting her brother at the Chase. 
From the night he had said good-by and motored 
to Balderton, not a word had been heard of Ev- 
erard. He had not returned to school, neither 
had he visited any relations or friends, and in- 
deed since he stepped out of the car at the railway 
station all trace of him seemed to have vanished. 
Mr. Bowden did not take the matter too ser- 
iously. He considered Everard was more of a 
man now than a schoolboy, and that, if he had 
fulfilled his threat of running away to sea, the 
brief experience of a voyage before the mast 
would do him no harm, and that when the vessel 
88 


8 9 


An Old Greek Idyll 

returned to port he would probably be only too 
glad to come back and claim his share of the in- 
heritance. 

This easy view annoyed Lilias. She had a share 
of the Ingleton pride, and she would have liked 
his absence treated with more concern. She 
thought Mr. Bowden ought to advertise in the 
Agony Column of The Times, beseeching Ever- 
ard to return home, but their guardian only 
laughed when she suggested such a course, and as- 
sured her that her brother would turn up in time 
when he was tired of managing for himself. 

“ I’ve been in the law for thirty years, my dear, 
and I know human nature better than you do,” he 
declared indulgently. 

“ But you don’t know Everard as I do! ” pro- 
tested Lilias. 

She could not take Mr. Bowden’s view of the 
case. Everard had left the Chase in such deep 
anger and resentment that the chances of a 
speedy change in his outlook seemed remote. 
Lilias longed to write to him, but knew of no ad- 
dress to which it was possible to post a letter. She 
worried often over his mysterious absence, and 
was quite angry with Dulcie for not taking the 
matter more keenly to heart. 

“ But Mr. Bowden and Cousin Clare think he’s 
all right! ” protested that easy going young dam- 
sel. 


90 The Princess of the School 

“ How do they know? I think you might show 
a little more interest in your own brother, who, 
after all, has been treated extremely badly. It 
seems to me hardly decent to circle round Carmel 
as you do ! ” 

Dulcie opened her blue eyes wide. 

“ Do I circle round Carmel? Well, really, and 
why shouldn’t I like her? She’s my cousin, and a 
jolly good sort too ! I believe she’ll give us all a 
far better time at the Chase than Everard would 
have done. He always wanted everything just 
his own way. None of us ever had an innings 
when he was at home. I never could see why the 
eldest of a family should lord it so over the 
others.” 

“ You never had any proper sense of pro- 
priety! ” retorted Lilias indignantly. “I believe 
in keeping up the traditions of the Ingletons, and 
the estate has always descended strictly in the male 
line. It’s only right it should have been left to 
Everard instead of to a girl, and I’ll always say 
so. There ! ” 

Dulcie shrugged her shoulders. 

“ Say what you like, Sister o’ Mine ! The 
twentieth century is different from the Middle 
Ages, and people don’t bother so much nowadays 
as they did about descent and all that. The 
owner of an estate hasn’t to fight for it. Oh yes, 
of course I’m glad I’m an Ingleton, but Carmel’s 


9i 


An Old Greek Idyll 

an Ingleton too, as much as we are, and if the 
Chase is hers we can’t help it, and we may just as 
well make the best of it! ” 

With which piece of philosophy, Dulcie turned 
away, leaving Lilias to shake her head over the 
decay of family feeling, and the degeneracy of 
younger sisters. 

It was perhaps Carmel’s rendering of the Pas- 
toral dance that suggested to Miss Walters a 
scheme of entertainment for the garden fete 
which the girls were to give in aid of the “ Homes 
for Waifs and Strays.” She decided that the gar- 
den of Chilcombe Hall would make an excellent 
background for some classic representations, and 
that nothing could be prettier than old Greek cos- 
tumes. By a stroke of great good luck she man- 
aged to engage Miss Adams, a former pupil who 
had been studying classic dancing in Paris, to come 
for a few weeks and train the performers. Miss 
Adams was a tremendous enthusiast, and arrived 
full of ideas which she was burning to teach to the 
school. The girls were delighted with her meth- 
ods. It was quite a new phase of dancing to trip 
barefooted on the lawn, holding up garlands of 
flowers. They liked the exercises which she gave 
them for the cultivation of grace, and practiced 
classic attitudes on all occasions, with more or less 
success. 

“ You go about the school so exactly like Mi- 


9 2 The Princess of the School 


nerva!” complained Noreen to Phillida, rather 
dismayed by the sudden change in her lively friend 
from bounding spirits to a statuesque pose. 
“Need you always walk as if you were thinking of 
the shape of your ankles? ” 

Phillida shook her head carefully, so as not to 
disarrange the Greek fillet she was wearing. 

“ It’s been too hot lately to tear round and play 
tennis. I think, too, that what Miss Adams says 
is quite right. English girls are lacking in grace 
and dignity. Just look at the way Ida and Joyce 
are flopping about now. An artist would have 
fits to see them ! ” 

“ Well, of course they’re not sitting for their 
portraits. Oh yes! I love dancing, but I don’t 
want to worry about being graceful all day long! ” 
“ That’s just the point, though,” persisted 
Phillida, who was a zealous convert. “ The 
dances are to make you graceful always . You so 
get into the poetry of motion that it’s quite impos- 
sible for you ever to flop again! ” 

“ Is it? Oh, Kafoozalum! ” burbled Noreen, 
exploding into a series of chuckles. “ ‘ She never 
flopped again! ’ We ought to make a parody on 
that from the poem of ‘ The White Ship.’ 

“ Miss Adams to the school came down, 

The classic wave rolled on: 

And what was cricket’s latest score 
To those who danced alone? 


93 


An Old Greek Idyll 

From dawn they practised attitudes 
Until the sun did wane; 

And fast confirmed in Grecian pose, 

They never flopped again ! ” 

“ You may mock as much as you please! ” re- 
torted Phillida, u but it’s sheer envy because you 
know you won’t be chosen as a wood nymph. 
Play cricket and tennis if you wish, by all means! 
But / think when we’re having a performance we 
may just as well give our minds to it, and do it 
properly, especially when Miss Adams is here to 
teach us.” 

“Right you are! Float on, O goddess! 
You’re getting too ethereal for the school. I 
shall be glad when the entertainment’s over, and 
we can have a cricket match again. It’s decidedly 
more in my line ! ” 

Miss Adams, with all the enthusiasm of youth 
and a new vocation, was determined to make the 
entertainment a success. She spared no trouble 
over constant rehearsals, and having weeded out 
those girls who could not adapt themselves to her 
methods, she kept the rest well at work in any 
time that was available. She determined not 
only to have dances, but to give in addition a 
short Greek play, and selected for that purpose 
the famous fifteenth idyll of Theocritus. 

“But we’re not to act it in Greek, surely!” 
objected Edith in alarm. 


94 


The Princess of the School 


“ It’s bad enough to have to learn French plays ! 
We’d never be able to tackle Greek!” urged 
Dulcie, absolutely aghast. 

“ Don’t look so scared! ” laughed Miss Adams. 
“ I’m not going to ask you to give it in Greek. 
Probably few people would understand it if you 
did! I have a delightful translation here. It 
ought to take very well indeed with the audience. 
Come and squat on the grass, and I’ll read it 
aloud to you first, and then I’ll allot parts.” 

“Is it very stiff and educational?” groaned 
Dulcie, obeying unwillingly. 

“Wait and see! Come under the shade of 
the lilac bush, it’s so hot to sit in the sun.” 

The girls composed themselves into attitudes 
of more or less classic elegance, and Miss Adams, 
book in hand, began to read. 

“ IDYLL XV 

Gorgo. Is Praxinoe at home? 

Praxinoe. Dear Gorgo, how long it is since you have 
been here! She is at home. The wonder is that you 
have got here at last. Eunoe, see that she has a chair. 
Throw a cushion on it, too. 

Gorgo. It does most charmingly as it is. 

Praxinoe . Do sit down. 

Gorgo . Oh, what a thing spirit is! I have scarcely 
got to you alive, Praxinoe ! What a huge crowd ! What 
hosts of four-in-hands ! Everywhere cavalry boots, every- 
where men in uniform. And the road is endless: yes, 
you really live too far away ! 


95 


An Old Greek Idyll 

Praxinoe. It is all the fault of that madman of mine! 
Here he came to the ends of the earth, and took — a 
hole, not a house, and all that we might not be neigh- 
bors. The jealous wretch, always the same, ever for 
spite ! 

Gorgo. Don’t talk of Dinon, your husband, like that, 
my dear girl, before the little boy. Look how he is star- 
ing at you! Never mind, Zopyrion, sweet child, she is 
not speaking about papa. 

Praxinoe . Our Lady Persephone! The child takes 
notice! 

Gorgo . Nice papa! 

Praxinoe . That papa of his the other day — we call 
every day ‘ the other day ’ — went to get soap and rouge 
at the shop, and back he came to me with salt — the 
great, big endless fellow ! ” 

“ But, Miss Adams,” interrupted Dulcie, “ sure- 
ly this isn’t an old Greek play? It sounds abso- 
lutely and entirely modern ! ” 

“ As a matter of fact, it was written by 
Theocritus about the year 266 B. C. It describes 
the visit paid by two Syracusan ladies residing in 
Alexandria to the festival of Adonis. Their 
manners and talk then must have been very 
similar to ours of to-day. Listen to the part 
where they are getting ready to start. 

“ Gorgp. It seems nearly time to go. 

Praxinoe . Idlers have always holidays. Eunoe, bring 
the water, and put it down in the middle of the room, 
lazy creature that you are! Cats always like to sleep 
soft! Come, bustle, bring the water — quicker! I want 
water first, and how she carries it! Give it me all the 


96 The Princess of the School 

same: don’t pour out so much, you extravagant thing! 
Stupid girl! Why are you wetting my dress? There, 
stop, I have washed my hands, as heaven would have it! 
Where is the key of the big chest? Bring it here. 

Gorgo . Praxinoe, that full body becomes you wonder- 
fully. Tell me, how much did the stuff cost you just 
off the loom? 

Praxinoe. Don’t speak of it, Gorgo! More than eight 
pounds in good silver money — and the work on it! I 
nearly slaved my soul out over it. 

Gorgo . Well, it is most successful: all you could wish. 

Praxinoe. Thanks for the pretty speech. Eunoe, bring 
my shawl, and set my hat on my head, the fashionable 
way. No, Zopyrion, I don’t mean to take you! Boo! 
Bogies! There’s a horse that bites! Cry as much as you 
please, but I cannot have you lamed. Let us be moving. 
Phrygia, take the child, and keep him amused, call in 
the dog, and shut the street door! ” 

“ It’s exactly like anybody going out to-day! ” 
commented Carmel, as Miss Adams came to a 
pause. 

“ Why does it seem so modern? ” asked Dulcie. 

“ Because it was written during the zenith of 
Greece’s history, and one great civilization always 
resembles another. England of to-day is far 
more in touch with the times of ancient Egypt, 
Babylon, Greece and Rome, than with the Middle 
Ages. Read Chaucer, and you find his mental 
outlook is that of a child of seven. In the days 
of the Plantagenets grown men and women en- 
joyed stories of a crude simplicity that now only 


97 


An Old Greek Idyll 

appeals to children. The human race is always 
progressing in great successive waves of civiliza- 
tion; after each wave breaks, a time of barbarism 
prevails, till man is again educated to a higher 
growth. We’re living at the top of a wave at 
present ! ” 

“ I remember,” said Carmel, “ when Mother 
and Daddy took me to Rome, we saw the busts 
of the Emperors, and of all sorts of clever people, 
who’d lived in about the first century, and we all 
said: ‘ Oh, aren’t their faces just like people of 
to-day?’ We amused ourselves with saying one 
was a lawyer, and another a doctor, and calling 
some of them after our friends. Then we went 
afterwards to an exhibition of sixteenth-century 
portraits; perhaps the artists hadn’t learnt to paint 
well, but at any rate the faces were utterly differ- 
ent from people of to-day. They seemed quite 
another type altogether — not so intelligent or 
so interesting. We were tremendously struck 
with the difference.” 

“ It marks my point,” said Miss Adams. 

“ What else do Gorgo and Praxinoe do?” 
asked Edith. 

“ They go into Alexandria for the festival, and 
find the streets so crowded that they are almost 
frightened to death, and have hard work not to 
lose Eunoe, the slave girl, whom they have taken 
with them; she nearly gets squeezed as they pass 


9 8 The Princess of the School 


in at the door. They go into raptures over an 
exhibition of embroideries. ‘ Lady Athene,’ 
says Praxinoe, ‘ what spinning-women wrought 
them? What painters designed their drawings, 
so true they are?’ I haven’t time to read it all 
to you now, but I must just give you the little bit 
where they quarrel with a stranger. It’s too ab- 
solutely priceless. 

“A Stranger . You weariful women, do cease your end- 
less cooing talk! You bore one to death with your eternal 
broad vowels ! 

Gorgo. Indeed! And where may this person come 
from? What is it to you if we are chatterboxes? Give 
orders to your own servants, sir. Do you pretend to 
command ladies of Syracuse? If you must know, we are 
Corinthians by descent, like Bellerophon himself, and we 
speak Peloponnesian. Dorian women may lawfully speak 
Doric, I presume? ” 

“ Oh, do let me be Gorgo!” begged Dulcie. 
“ I love her; she’s so smart and sarcastic. Isn’t 
it exactly like somebody talking during a concert, 
and a person in the row in front objecting, and a 
friend butting in with rude remarks? That’s 
what generally happens.” 

“ Did people’s accent matter in Greek as much 
as it does in English? ” asked Prissie. 

“Evidently. The Alexandrian gentleman — 
who sounds a decided fop — did not approve of a 
Doric pronunciation. No doubt broad vowels 
were out of fashion. I believe I shall give his 


An Old Greek Idyll 99 

part to Edith. It’s a small one, but it has scope 
for a good deal of acting.” 

“And who is to be Praxinoe, please?” 

“ I think I must choose Carmel. She ought to 
act in an idyll by Theocritus, as he was a Sicilian 
like herself. Would he find Sicily much altered, 
Carmel, if he came back? Or is it the same after 
two thousand years?” 

u There are still goatherds on the mountains, 
though we don’t see wood nymphs now! ” 

“ No, the wood nymphs have all trotted over 
to England, and are going to give a performance 
in aid of the ‘ Waifs and Strays! ’ ” said Dulcie. 
“ I hope Apollo will remember them, and send 
them a fine day, if he’s anything to do with the 
weather over here. Perhaps his sun chariot only 
runs on the Mediterranean route.” 

“ Surely he’s got an aeroplane by now ! ” 
laughed Edith. “ We’ll send him a wireless mes- 
sage to remind him of his duty. ‘ Nymphs danc- 
ing Thursday week at 2.30 p.m. Kindly cable 
special supply of sunshine.’ ” 

“Now, girls, you’re getting silly!” said Miss 
Adams, shutting her book and rising. “ If we 
want to make a success of our classic afternoon, 
we’ve plenty of hard work before us. I’m going 
on with costumes at present, and anybody who 
cares to volunteer can fetch her thimble and a 
needle and cotton, and hem a chiton.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


Wood Nymphs 

It needed a tremendous amount of rehearsing 
and preparation before Miss Adams judged her 
classic performance fit for public exhibition. The 
Greek garments, simple as they were, neverthe- 
less required sewing, and there were certain pieces 
of scenery to be constructed. The other mis- 
tresses helped nobly, though they were thankful 
to be spared the organization of the proceedings, 
and to leave the brunt of the burden to a special- 
ist. Tickets for the entertainment had been sold 
in the neighborhood, and parents and friends of 
the girls who lived within motoring distance had 
promised to drive over. 

“Cousin Clare is coming!” rejoiced Dulcie. 
“ She has two friends staying at the Chase, and 
she’ll bring them with her. If Milner drives 
them, I shall ask Miss Walters if he may come 
and watch too. He’d be so delighted to see it. 
He loves anything of that kind. His own little 
girl was May Queen at the village pageant two 
years ago, and he’s talked about it ever since.” 

IOO 


Wood Nymphs ioi 

“ I wrote to Mr. Bowden,” said Lilias, “ and 
he’s taken two tickets, but he’s doubtful if he’ll 
find time to get off. He’s always so busy.” 

“ Never mind if he sent the money for them! ” 
consoled Edith. “ Of course it’s nice to have 
big audiences, but it’s money we’re out for. We 
want to make a decent sum.” 

“ Miss Walters says the tickets have sold quite 
well. Even if it’s a doubtful day, and we don’t 
have a very big audience, we shall clear something, 
at any rate.” 

“ Oh, but I do hope people will come! It’s so 
disappointing to take all this trouble, and to act 
to rows of empty chairs. What’s going to hap- 
pen, by the by, if it’s a wet day? Will it be put 
off?” 

“ We shall have to have it in the big school- 
room. It can’t be put off, because Miss Adams 
can only stay till Friday, and we couldn’t get 
through it without her.” 

“ No, indeed! She’s the directing genius of 
it all!” 

“ Oh dear! It simply must keep fine! ” 

Never was weather more carefully watched. 
All the old country saws and superstitions were 
remembered and repeated. It became a matter 
of vital importance to notice whether the scarlet 
pimpernel was out, if the cattle were grazing with 
their heads up hill, and whether a heron flew 


io2 The Princess of the School 


across the sky. Prissie took a candle into the 
garden last thing before bed-time, to observe if 
the lawn showed earthworms; the finding of black 
slugs was considered to be rather fatal, and the 
hooting of owls a decidedly bad omen. The god- 
dess of the English climate, however, is such a 
fickle deity that there is never the least dependence 
to be placed on weather prophecies. She always 
seems to prefer to give a surprise. On the day 
before the performance it rained; evening closed 
in with a stormy sky, and every probability of wak- 
ing next morning to find a drizzle. Dulcie, put- 
ting her head out of the window last thing, re- 
ported driving clouds and a total absence of stars. 

Yet, lo and behold! they woke to one of those 
rare ethereal dawns that come only now and then 
in a summer. The Blue bedroom faced east, and 
over the line of laurels in the garden they could 
watch pearl and opal flush into rosy pink before 
the sun shone out in an almost cloudless sky. By 
nine o’clock the wet grass of yesterday was begin- 
ning to dry up, and Miss Adams, with the help of 
Jones the gardener, was setting up her scenery, 
and making initial arrangements for the business 
of the afternoon. 

She had contrived her open-air theater as far 
as possible on Greek lines. There was no stage, 
but the audience sat on chairs on the grass, and on 
cushions and rugs placed down a bank that com- 


Wood Nymphs 103 

manded the lawn. The performance was to be- 
gin at 3 o’clock, and soon after 2.30 visitors began 
to arrive. There was quite a long row of cars in 
the drive, bicycles were stacked against the ver- 
anda, and two ponies were put up in the stable. 
Cousin Clare and her friends came in excellent 
time, driven — much to Dulcie’s satisfaction — 
by Milner, who in company with the other chauf- 
feurs received a cordial invitation from Miss Wal- 
ters to witness the show. 

“ And wasn’t it nice of him?” said Dulcie to 
Carmel, “ he insisted on giving a shilling to the 
funds. I told him it wasn’t expected, but he said 
he should like to, if we didn’t mind. Mind! 
Why, we want all the money we can get ! ” 

“ I think Milner is an old dear! ” agreed Car- 
mel. 

Mr. Bowden had actually managed to get away 
from his office after all, and had brought a niece 
with him in the side-car of his motor-bicycle. He 
looked quite beaming, as if he meant to forget the 
law for a few hours, and to enjoy himself. He 
sat next to Cousin Clare, chatting affably and ad- 
miring the arrangements. 

A piano had been carried out on to the lawn 
for the occasion, and Miss Lowe, the music mis- 
tress, took her seat at it. She was supported by 
a small school orchestra of three violins and 
violoncello, and together they struck up some 


104 The Princess of the School 

Eastern music. When it was well started there 
was a flashing of white among the bushes on the 
farther side of the lawn, and out came tripping a 
bevy of charming wood nymphs. They were all 
clad in Greek chitons, very delicately draped, their 
hair was bound with gold fillets, and their arms 
and feet were bare. They held aloft garlands of 
flowers, and circling on that part of the lawn 
which formed the stage, they went through the 
postures of a beautiful and intricate classic dance. 

Viewed against the background of trees and 
bushes it was a remarkably pretty performance. 
There were no accessories of limelight or 
“ make-up ” to give a theatrical or artificial ef- 
fect; the afternoon sunshine fell on the girls in 
their simple costumes, and showed a most natural 
scene as their bare feet whirled lightly over the 
grass in time to the music, and their uplifted arms 
waved the long garlands. There was a tremen- 
dous clapping as they retired into the shelter of 
their classic groves. 

The next item on Miss Adams’ program was 
rather ambitious. An upright screen of wood, 
covered with black paper, was placed upon the 
lawn to serve as a background, and in front of 
this Hester Wilson and Truie Tyndale, attired 
in Venetian red chitons, performed a Grecian 
dance. The effect was exactly a representation of 
an ancient Etruscan vase, with terra cotta figures 


Wood Nymphs 105 

on a black background, and when at the end they 
stood posed as in a tableau, the likeness was com- 
plete. Though scarcely so pretty as the garland 
dance, it was considered very clever, and met with 
much applause. 

For the Idyll XV of Theocritus, Miss Adams 
had followed Greek tradition, and had used only 
the scantiest and simplest of scenery. A few 
screens and stools did service for a house, a tiger- 
skin rug was flung on the grass, and a brass water- 
pot, brought by Miss Walters from Cairo, com- 
pleted the idea of a classic establishment. It was 
better to have few accessories than to present an- 
achronisms, and place modern articles in an Alex- 
andrian home of the third century B. C. 

Dulcie and Carmel, as Gorgo and Praxinoe, 
made an excellent contrast, the one carrying out 
the fair Greek type and the other the dark. They 
played their parts admirably, rendering the dia- 
logue with much spirit and brightness, and with 
appropriate action. Praxinoe, the fashionable 
belle of the third century B. C., donned her gar- 
ments for the festival with a mixture of coquetry 
and Greek dignity that delighted the audience; 
Gorgo’s passage of arms with the Stranger of 
Alexandria, was smart and racy, while Edith, as 
the affected “ man-about-town ” of the period was 
considered a huge success. As nobody in the 
school was young enough to take Zopyrion, they 


io6 The Princess of the School 


had borrowed the gardener’s three-year-old baby, 
and had trained him to walk on, holding the hand 
of Eunoe. He was a pretty child, and dressed 
in a little white chiton, with bare legs and feet, he 
looked very charming, and quite completed the 
scene. His round wondering eyes and evident 
astonishment were indeed exactly what was re- 
quired from him to sustain the part. 

The wood nymphs, with some slight additions 
of costume, acted the crowd through which Gorgo 
and Praxinoe had to push their way and pilot their 
slaves. They pushed and hustled with such vigor 
as amply to justify the episode where Praxinoe’s 
muslin veil was torn in two, and the whole party 
would have been separated, and Eunoe altogether 
lost, but for the help of an Alexandrian gentle- 
man. 

Carmel brought out her speech of thanks with 
much unction. 

" Praxinoe. Both this year and for ever may all be well 
with you, my dear sir, for your care of us. A good kind 
man! We’re letting Eunoe get squeezed — come, 
wretched girl, push your way through.” 

And Nesta, as the courteous stranger, re- 
sponded with a bow which, if not absolutely his- 
torically correct for the period, was certainly a 
combination of the good manners of all the ages. 

As it was difficult to find enough items for an 


Wood Nymphs 107 

entirely classical program, the second half of the 
entertainment was to be miscellaneous, and during 
the short interval a delegate from the “ Waifs , 
and Strays Society ” was to give a short address 
explaining the work of the Homes. 

Now Carmel was down in Part II to dance the 
Pastorale, and she ran into the house to change 
her Greek chiton for the dress of a Sicilian peas- 
ant. She went through the veranda and the open 
French window, and straight upstairs to her bed- 
room. She had brought nobody with her, be- 
cause, for one thing, she needed no help, and for 
another she was hot and excited, and felt that she 
would like a few minutes’ rest quite to herself. 
There was no great hurry, so she leisurely put on 
the pretty scarlet and white-striped skirt, the vel- 
vet apron, the white bodice and laced corsage, 
clasped the necklace round her throat, and twisted 
the gay silk handkerchief as a head-dress on her 
dark hair. It was a prettier and more effective 
costume even than. the Greek one. There was an 
Eastern variety of color in it that suited her better 
than the simplicity of the chiton. She had com- 
pleted it, from the gold bangles on her wrists to 
the scarlet stockings and neat shoes, and was just 
turning to run downstairs again, when she sud- 
denly stopped and listened. 

Carmel’s little bedroom was really a dressing- 
room, and possessed two doors. One led into the 


io8 The Princess of the School 


passage, and the other communicated with the 
Blue bedroom. This latter door was ajar just a 
couple of inches, and through the opening came 
the sound of a drawer pulled out. For a moment 
Carmel thought that Dulcie and Bertha must have 
come upstairs, and she was on the point of calling 
to them, when some strong and mysterious instinct 
restrained her. Instead, she walked softly across 
the floor, and peeped through the chink. It was 
no cousin or schoolfellow who was in the next 
room, but a slight fair man — an utter stranger 
— who was hastily turning over the contents of 
the drawer, and slipping something into his pocket. 

For a moment Carmel’s heart stood still. She 
realized instantly that she was in the immediate 
vicinity of a burglar. Seeing the entertainment 
advertised by a placard on the gate, he must have 
entered the garden and waited his opportunity to 
slip into the house while everybody was outside 
watching the performance. He was apparently 
laying light fingers upon any article which took his 
fancy. 

Carmel’s first and most natural impulse was to 
tear downstairs and give warning of what was 
happening. Then it occurred to her that while 
she did so the thief would very possibly make his 
escape. If only she could trap him. But how? 
Her fertile brain thought for a second or two, 
then evolved a plan. 


Wood Nymphs 109 

Very quietly she withdrew the key from the 
door which led out of her bedroom to the passage, 
and locked it on the outside. So far, so good: if 
Mr. Burglar went into the dressing-room he could 
not escape. Now she must be prepared to take 
a great risk. The key of the Blue bedroom was 
on the inside; she must open the door, withdraw 
it, and lock it on the outside before the thief could 
stop her. It was possible that he had calculated 
on the double exit, and that, hearing a noise be- 
hind him, he would make a dash for the dressing- 
room. 

With shaking legs, and something going 
round and round like a wheel inside her chest, she 
approached the Blue bedroom door, and opened it 
softly. As she had anticipated, the intruder had 
probably laid his plans, for at the first sound he 
turned his head, then slipped like a rabbit into the 
dressing-room. No doubt an unpleasant surprise 
awaited him there, for as Carmel’s trembling 
fingers drew out the key, and locked the door from 
the passage side she could hear the handle of her 
own bedroom door moving. 

“ He’s probably got skeleton keys, or a jemmy, 
or something like they use on the cinema, and will 
be out in a minute, but I’ll get a start of him! ” 
she thought, and tearing down stairs like the wind, 
she literally flew into the garden, and gasped forth 
the thrilling news. 


I 10 


The Princess of the School 


“It’s the Blue bedroom — watch the window 
or he may jump out! ” she added quickly. 

There was an instant rush towards the house; 
Miss Walters, with Milner and four other chauf- 
feurs to support her, dashed up stairs, Mr. Bow- 
den and a crowd of visitors took their stand under 
the windows. Shouts from the bedroom presently 
announced that the burglar had been secured, and 
after a while he was led down stairs with his 
wrists fastened together by a piece of clothes line, 
and guarded on each side by two determined look- 
ing men, who hustled him into a car, and drove 
him off at once to the police station at Glaze- 
brook. 

The excitement at Chilcombe Hall was tremen- 
dous. It was of course impossible to go on with 
the entertainment. Mistresses, girls, and guests 
could do nothing but talk about the occurrence. 
Carmel was questioned, and gave as minute and 
accurate an account as she could of exactly what 
had happened. She was much congratulated by 
everybody on her presence of mind. 

u I don’t know how you dared do it! ” shivered 
Dulcie. u He might have shot you with a re- 
volver ! ” 

u You’re a brave girl! ” said Miss Walters ap- 
provingly. “ If it hadn’t been for your prompt 
action, in all probability he would have got away.” 


Wood Nymphs hi 

“ I didn’t feel brave. I was scared to death! ” 
admitted Carmel. 

Although she would not acknowledge any par- 
ticular credit in her achievement, Carmel was nec- 
essarily the heroine of the hour. Miss Walters, 
feeling that everybody must be in need of refresh- 
ment after such an event, ordered tea to be served 
immediately, and soon the urns were carried out 
into the garden, where tables had already been 
set with cups and saucers and plates of sandwiches 
and cakes. 

After a short time Mr. Bowden, who had ac- 
companied the burglar to the police station, re- 
turned to report that their prisoner was safely 
quartered in a cell, and a formal charge had been 
lodged against him, which in due course of law 
would lead to his trial for house-breaking. 

“ The police think he is not an old offender, 
but some cyclist who was passing, and probably 
yielded to a sudden temptation,” he explained. 
“ Nevertheless, he’ll get a sharp sentence, for 
there has been too much of this sort of thing go- 
ing on lately, and the judges are inclined to be 
very severe on it, and rightly too, or nobody’s 
home would be safe. Thank you, Carmel! Yes, 
I’ll take another cup of tea, please! And then I 
want to see you do that Sicilian dance before I set 
off on my travels again. Oh yes! I’m not going 
away without ! ” 


1 12 


The Princess of the School 


Poor Carmel was still feeling too much upset 
to relish dancing, but Mr. Bowden pressed the 
point, and other guests joined their persuasions, 
so finally it was decided to give at least a portion 
of the second part of the program, and the audi- 
ence again took their seats on the lawn, leaving 
several people, however, to guard the house. 

“ It’s not likely there’ll be another burglar on 
the same afternoon; still, he might have accom- 
plices about,” said Miss Walters. “ I shall never 
feel really safe again, I’m afraid. We shall all 
be horribly nervous for a long time.” 

Only the most striking items in Part II were 
selected for performance, as it was growing late, 
and most, of the guests would soon have to take 
their leave. There was an affecting tableau of 
the parting of the widowed Queen of Edward IV 
from her little son, Richard, Duke of York; a 
charming pageant of the old street cries of Lon- 
don, in which dainty maidens in eighteenth-century 
costumes appeared with bunches of “ Sweet 
Lavender,” and baskets of “ Cherry Ripe,” and, 
after singing the appropriate songs, went the 
round of the audience and sold their wares. 

Noreen, who was the star of the elocution class, 
recited a poem describing the sad experience of a 
typical little waif, and his reception in the Home. 
It was a pretty piece, and had been composed ex- 


Wood Nymphs 113 

pressly for the Society by a lady who often wrote 
for magazines. 

Then, last of all, came Carmel’s Sicilian dance. 
Miss Lowe had fortunately been able to obtain 
the score of the Pastorale, and with music and 
costume complete the performance was an even 
greater success than it had been on the terrace at 
Bradstone. People clapped the little figure, 
partly for her charming dancing and partly for 
her pluck in trapping the burglar, so that alto- 
gether she received quite an ovation. 

“ We shan’t forget the ‘Waifs and Strays’ 
afternoon in a hurry,” said Lilias, as she tidied 
her possessions afterwards, for it was her drawer 
that the burglar had turned upside down in his 
search for valuables. “ I feel I want to sleep 
with a revolver under my pillow ! ” 

“ If you did, I’d be far more afraid of you than 
of the burglar!” protested Bertha. “I know 
you’d let it off at the wrong person. I don’t sup- 
pose anybody else is likely to come burgling here, 
so you needn’t alarm yourself! ” 

“ But if they do, Miss Wiseacre? ” 

“ Then I should turn them over into the dres- 
sing-room, to be dealt with at her discretion by 
Princess Carmel!” laughed Bertha. “I believe 
she’s equal to catching one of them in a mouse- 
trap if she gets the opportunity! ” 


CHAPTER IX 


The Open Road 

It was fortunate for Carmel that her first ex- 
perience of England should come in the spring 
and early summer. Had she arrived straight 
from sunny Sicily to face autumn rains or winter 
snows, I verily believe her courage would have 
failed, and she would have written an urgent and 
imploring appeal to be fetched home. For the 
white, vine-covered house that looked over the 
blue waters of the Mediterranean was still essen- 
tially “ home ” to Carmel. She had been born 
and bred in the south, and though one half of her 
was purely English, there was another side that 
was strongly Italian. She was deeply attached to 
all her relations and friends in Sicily, and from her 
point of view it was exile to live so far away from 
them. The fact that she was owner of the Chase 
was, in her estimation, no compensation whatever 
for her banishment from “ Casa Bianca.” She 
made a very sweet and gentle little heiress, how- 
ever. As yet she was mistress only in name, for 
during her minority everything was left in the 


The Open Road 

hands of Mr. Bowden and a certain Canon Lowe, 
who were guardians to all Mr. Ingleton’s grand- 
children, and kept the Chase open as a home for 
them. The three girls returned there from Chil- 
combe Hall at the end of the term, and were 
joined by the younger boys from their preparatory 
school. 

For a week or two they enjoyed themselves in 
the grounds and the park. There was much to 
show Carmel, and she was happy sitting in the 
garden or wandering in the woods. She soon 
made friends with the people on the estate. The 
gamekeeper’s children would come running out to 
meet her, and stand round smiling while she 
hunted in her pocket for chocolates; Milner’s little 
girl adored her, and even the shy baby at the lodge 
waxed friendly. Carmel was intensely fond of 
children, and the affection which she had bestowed 
on younger brothers and sisters at home cropped 
out on every occasion where her life touched that 
of smaller people. To Roland, Bevis, and Clif- 
ford she was a charming companion. She would 
go walks with them in the woods, help them to 
arrange their various collections of butterflies, 
foreign stamps, and picture post cards, and play 
endless games of draughts, halma, or bagatelle. 

“ You slave after those boys as if you were their 
nursery governess ! ” remarked Lilias one day, 
just a little nettled that Clifford ran instinctively 


ii 6 The Princess of the School 


to Carmel for sympathy instead of to his sister. 
“ I promised to help them with those caterpillar 
boxes to-morrow, and so I will, if you’ll leave 
them. I really can’t be bothered to-day.” 

Carmel yielded instantly. Part of her intense 
charm was the ready tact with which she was care- 
ful never to usurp the place of any one else. She 
put aside the muslin that was to form covers for 
the boxes, and slipped her scissors back into the 
case. 

Clifford, however, who was a budding natural- 
ist, and most keen on collecting, was highly dis- 
gusted. 

“ I want my boxes to-day! ” he wailed. “ I’ve 
no place to put my caterpillars when I find them. 
They crawl out of the old boxes. Why shouldn’t 
Carmel make me some? I know hers would be 
beauties.” 

“ Lilias will make you some nicer ones to-mor- 
row,” urged his cousin. “ Suppose we take our 
butterfly-nets on to the heath to-day, and try to 
find some ‘ blues.’ You haven’t a really nice 
specimen, you know. And I think we might find 
some moths on the trees in the wood, if we look 
about carefully. It’s worth trying, isn’t it? ” 

“ Oh yes! Do let us! Shall we start now? ” 
agreed Clifford, much mollified. 

On the whole the three girls got along excel- 
lently, but if there was any hint at disturbance it 


The Open Road 117 

generally arose from Lilias, whose pride would be 
up in arms at the most absurd trifles. She was 
annoyed that Carmel was asked to give away the 
prizes at the village sports, and showed her dis- 
satisfaction so plainly that her sweet-tempered 
cousin, rather than have any fuss, solved the sit- 
uation by asking Cousin Clare to perform the 
ceremony instead, considerably to the disappoint- 
ment of the committee, who had thought the new 
heiress was the appropriate patroness. 

Lilias and Dulcie took diametrically opposite 
views about the Chase. The former stuck firmly 
to her opinion that it ought to have been 
Everard’s, that her brother was an ill-used out- 
cast, and that it was only sisterly feeling to resent 
seeing anybody else in his place. Her attitude to 
Carmel was almost as strong as that of King 
Robert of Sicily in Longfellow’s Tales of a Way- 
side Inn towards the angel who had temporarily 
usurped his throne. 

Dulcie, on the contrary, had always chafed 
against Everard’s assumption of superiority and 
authority. He had been left the same generous 
legacy as the rest of the family, and had only to 
come back and claim his portion when he wished. 
If anybody was to have the Chase, she really pre- 
ferred that it should belong to Carmel, who never 
obtruded her rights, and seemed ready for her 
cousins to enjoy the property on an exact equality 


118 The Princess of the School 


with herself. The two girls were great friends: 
they would go out riding together while Lilias 
went shopping in the car with Cousin Clare; they 
practised duets, and both made crude attempts at 
sketching the house. Their tastes in books and 
fancywork were somewhat similar, and they 
would sit in the shade in the afternoons stitching 
at embroidery and eating chocolates. 

Three weeks of the summer holidays passed 
rapidly away in this fashion. Carmel was glad to 
have the opportunity of getting to know the 
Chase, and admitted its attractions, though her 
heart was still in Sicily. 

Towards the end of August the party broke up 
and scattered. Carmel had received an invita- 
tion from English relations of her stepfather to 
join them on a motor tour; the three little boys 
were to be taken to rooms at the seaside by Miss 
Mason, their late governess; Lilias and Dulcie 
went to stay with friends, and Cousin Clare had 
arranged to attend a conference. She agreed, 
however, that when Lilias and Dulcie returned 
from their visit, they should go with her in the 
car for a week-end to Tivermouth, to see how the 
boys were getting on. 

“ If you’ll promise we may stay at an hotel! ” 
stipulated Lilias. “ I wouldn’t spend a week-end 
in rooms with those three imps for the world. 


1 







D 70 


SHE PEEPED OVER LAURETTE S SHOULDER 



The Open Road 119 

I’d like to see them, but not at too close quar- 
ters.” 

u It’s quite improbable that their landlady 
would have bedrooms for us,” said Cousin Clare. 
“ So in any case we should be obliged to stop at 
an hotel. In this crowded season I shall engage 
rooms beforehand.” 

“ Hurrah!” triumphed Dulcie, who was anx- 
ious for a grown-up experience. “ I must say I 
hate staying with the boys near the beach; the sit- 
ting-room’s always overflowing with their seaweed 
and other messes.” 

u What a joke if I were to turn up at the hotel 
too! ” said Carmel. “I believe the Rogers are 
going down to Devonshire. I shall tell them the 
date you’ll be at Tivermouth. They’ll possibly 
like to meet you.” 

“ Oh, do! It would be such fun!” agreed 
Dulcie. “ We’d have an absolutely topping time 
together. Persuade them as hard as you can! ” 

“ I’ll do my best! ” agreed Carmel. 

As it is impossible to follow the adventures of 
everybody, we will concern ourselves particularly 
with the experiences of our heroine, who was to 
take her first motor tour among English scenery. 
The party in the comfortable Rover car consisted 
of Major and Mrs. Rogers, their daughter Sheila, 
their guest Carmel, and a chauffeur. Major 
Rogers was still suffering from the effects of 


i2o The Princess of the School 


wounds, and was more or less of a semi-invalid, a 
condition which made him fussy at times, and too 
independent at others, for directly he felt a trifle 
better he would immediately begin to break all the 
rules that the doctors had laid down for his treat- 
ment. He was an amusing, humorous sort of 
man, who would jest between spasms of pain, and 
generally found something to laugh at in the var- 
ious episodes of their journey. There is a laugh- 
ter, though, that is more the expression of supreme 
courage than of genuine mirth, and the drawn 
lines round the Major’s mouth told of sleepless 
nights and days of little ease, and of trouble that 
hurts worse even than physical pain; for one son 
lay on a Belgian battle-field, another on the 
heights near Salonika, with no cross to mark the 
grave, and a third deep under the surging waters 
of the Atlantic. 

Mrs. Rogers was Mr. Greville’s sister, and for 
that reason, though she was no real relation, Car- 
mel called her Aunt Hilda. She had been a belle 
in her youth, and she was still pretty with the pa- 
thetic beauty that often shines in the faces of those 
who have suffered great loss. Her once flaxen 
hair was almost entirely gray, but she had kept 
her delicate complexion, and there was a gentle 
sweetness about her that was very attractive. 

Her daughter was an exact replica of what she 
herself must have been at nineteen, though Sheila 


I 2 I 


The Open Road 

was going through an uncomfortable phase, and 
affected to despise the country, to be nervous of 
motoring, and to long to be back in town again. 
She was quite kind to Carmel, but treated her with 
the distantly indulgent attitude of the lately- 
grown-up for the mere schoolgirl. It was evident 
that she regarded the whole tour as more or less 
of a nuisance, and just a means of killing time 
until she could start off for Scotland to join a cer- 
tain house-party to which she had been invited, 
and where she would meet several of her most par- 
ticular friends. 

u I’m sorry we couldn’t ask one of your cousins 
to come with you, dear,” said Mrs. Rogers to 
Carmel, “ but there isn’t room in the car for any 
one else. It’s a good opportunity for you to see 
something of England. It’s all very different 
from Sicily, isn!t it? You’ll /eel your first winter 
trying, I’m afraid; we certainly lack sunshine in 
this climate.” 

“ Give me Egypt,” said Major Rogers. “ It’s 
this perpetual damp in the air that makes things 
melancholy over here. Why, except in the height 
of summer it’s hardly ever fit to sit out-of-doors. 
I like a place where I need a sun helmet.” 

“ You and Mother are salamanders, Daddy! ” 
declared Sheila. “ I believe you’d enjoy living in 
a hot-house! Now, I like Scotland, with a good 
sharp wind across the moors, and a touch of mist 


122 The Princess of the School 

in it to cool your face. I like either town or 
mountains. If I can’t walk down Regent Street, 
then I’d tramp over the heather, but I don’t ad- 
mire ordinary English scenery. It’s too tame.” 

“ You surely don’t call this tame? ” replied her 
father, pointing at the village through which they 
were motoring, “ it’s one of the show bits of the 
Midlands, and an absolute picture. Where are 
your eyes, child?” 

But Sheila was perverse, and refused to evince 
any enthusiasm, and ended by pulling out a novel 
over which she chuckled, quite regardless of the 
scenery, and only tore herself from the book to 
ask for the box of chocolate marsh mallows that 
she had bought at the last town where there was 
a good confectioner’s. 

Carmel would certainly have found Dulcie, or 
even Lilias, a more congenial companion than 
Sheila, but she nevertheless managed to enjoy her- 
self. She loved the country, and was delighted 
with the variety of the English landscape. 
Though less rich than the vineclad south, the 
greenness of its fields and hedges never failed to 
amaze her, and she was fascinated by the quaint 
villages, their thatched roofs, church spires, and 
flowery gardens. They had been running through 
Gloucestershire en route for Somerset and Devon, 
and were to call a halt at various show places on 
the way. Major Rogers, poring over map and 


The Open Road 123 

guide books, would plan out their daily route each 
morning at the breakfast table in the hotel. 

“ With good luck and no punctures we ought to 
reach Exeter to-night easily,” he remarked, look- 
ing through the window of an old-fashioned coun- 
try inn into the cobbled street where their luggage 
was being strapped on to the car. 

“But, my dear!” remonstrated his wife. 
“Why in such a hurry to reach Exeter? Let us 
stay the night at Wells, and look over the cathe- 
dral; then we can spend a few hours in Bath 
too.” 

“ Daddy and Johnson always like to tear along 
at about a hundred miles an hour,” said Sheila. 
“ Except as a means of getting along the road, I 
hate motoring! I always think Johnson is going 
to run into everybody. He shaves his corners so 
narrowly, and doesn’t give conveyances enough 
room. I call him very reckless.” 

“Nonsense! He’s an excellent driver!” de- 
clared her father. “ One of the best chauffeurs 
we’ve ever had, though he’s only a young chap. 
He’s wonderfully intelligent too. I’d trust him 
with repairs as well as any man at a garage. A 
civil fellow, too.” 

“ Yes, his manners are really quite superior,” 
agreed Mrs. Rogers, stepping on to the balcony 
and watching the smart, good-looking figure of 
the young chauffeur, who was opening the bonnet 


124 The Princess of the School 

of the car for some last inspection. “ Person- 
ally I feel perfectly safe when Johnson is driving 
me. I’m never nervous in the least! ” 

“ And I’m in such a perpetual panic that I often 
read so as not to look at the road,” confessed 
Sheila. “ I do wish you’d ask him to sound his 
horn oftener in these narrow roads. The banks 
and hedges are so high, you can’t see anything 
that’s coming till it’s almost upon you.” 

“ Well, it certainly might be a wise precau- 
tion,” said Major Rogers. “ In motoring you 
have to guard against the stupidity of other peo- 
ple, and that fellow in the gray two-seater nearly 
charged straight into us yesterday. A regular 
road-hog he was ! ” 

If Johnson had hitherto been a little slack in 
respect of sounding his horn, it was the only fault 
of which his employers could complain. He kept 
the fittings of the car at the very zenith in the 
matter of polish, he was punctuality personified, 
and most skilful at the tedious business of repair- 
ing or changing tires; he rarely spoke unless ad- 
dressed, but when questioned he seemed to have a 
good acquaintance with the country, knew which 
were the best roads, and what sights were worth 
visiting in the various places through which they 
passed. All of which are highly desirable quali- 
ties in a chauffeur, and a satisfaction to all con- 
cerned. 


12 * 


The Open Road 

It was the general plan of the holiday to start 
about ten or eleven o’clock, take a picnic-basket 
with them, lunch somewhere in the woods, arrive 
at their next halting-place about three or four, and 
spend the remainder of the day in sight-seeing, or 
in Major Rogers’ case resting, if he were suffering 
from a severe attack of pain. 

As they motored across Somerset in the direc- 
tion of Wells, they chose for their mid-day stop 
a lovely place on the top of a range of low hills. 
A belt of fir trees edged the roadside, and through 
these a gate led into a field. As the gate was open 
they felt licensed to enter, and to encamp upon a 
sunny bank under a hedge. One of the motor 
rugs was spread for Major Rogers, and Mrs. 
Rogers, Sheila, and Carmel sat severally on an air 
cushion, a tree-stump, and on the grass. There 
was a grand view over a slope of cornfields and 
pastures, and though the sun was warm there was 
a delicious little breeze to temper the heat. Not 
that it was too hot for any one except Sheila, who 
panted in the shade while the others exulted in 
the sunshine. Carmel, outstretched upon the 
grass, basked like a true daughter of the south, 
throwing aside her hat, somewhat to Mrs. Rogers’ 
consternation. 

“ You’ll spoil your complexion, child! I’m 
sure your mother never allows you to go hatless 
in Sicily! Put your handkerchief over your face. 


126 The Princess of the School 


Yes, I like to feel the warmth myself, though not 
on my head. This is the sort of holiday that does 
people good, just to sit in the open air.” 

“ It’s a rabbit holiday here,” murmured the 
Major lazily. “ Didn’t you read that supreme 
article in Punch a while ago? Well, it was about 
a doctor who invented a drug that could turn his 
patients into anything they chose for the holidays. 
A worried mother of a family lived an idyllic 
month at a farm as a hen, with six children as 
chickens, food and lodging provided gratis; a 
portly dowager enjoyed a rest cure as a Persian 
cat at a country mansion; some lively young peo- 
ple spent a fortnight as sea-gulls, while the hero 
of the article was just about to be changed into a 

rabbit when ” 

“ When what happened? ” 

“The usual thing in such stories; the maid 
broke the precious bottle of medicine that was to 
have worked the charm, and when he hunted for 
the doctor to buy another, the whole place had dis- 
appeared.” 

“ How disappointing! ” 

“Yes, but a field like this, with burrows in it, 
is a near substitute. I feel I could live up here. 
Suppose I buy a shelter and get leave to erect it? ” 
“ Then it would promptly rain, Daddy, and 
you’d be in the depths of misery and longing for a 
decent hotel! ” declared Sheila. 


127 


The Open Road 

To suit Major Rogers’ humor they stayed 
nearly two hours in the field. The quiet was just 
what his doctor had ordered for him. He had 
spent a restless night, and, though he could not 
sleep now, the air and the sunshine calmed his 
nerves. He seemed better than he had been for 
days, and enjoyed the run downhill into Wells. 

As they were stepping out of the motor at the 
hotel, Carmel gave an exclamation of concern. 

“ I’ve lost my bracelet ! ” she declared. 
“What a nuisance! Wherever can it have 
gone? ” 

Johnson, the chauffeur, immediately searched 
on the floor and cushions of the car, but without 
success. No bracelet was there. 

“When did you have it last?” asked Mrs. 
Rogers. 

“ In the rabbit field where we had lunch. I 
remember clasping and unclasping it, and I sup- 
pose it must have slipped off my wrist without my 
noticing. Never mind! ” 

“ I’m sorry, but it certainly is too far to go 
back and look for it, dear,” said Mrs. Rogers. 

“ Was it valuable? ” asked Sheila. 

“ Oh no, not at all ! Only Mother gave it to 
me on my last birthday. It doesn’t really mat- 
ter, and of course it can’t be helped now.” 

Carmel was vexed, nevertheless, with her own 
carelessness. The little bracelet had been a fav- 


128 The Princess of the School 


orite, and she hated to lose it. She missed the 
feel of it on her wrist. Her first thought when 
she woke next morning was of annoyance at the 
incident. As she walked down to breakfast in the 
coffee-room, the chauffeur was standing by the 
hall door. He came up at once, as if he had been 
expressly waiting for her, and handed her a small 
parcel. To her utter surprise it contained the 
missing bracelet. 

“Johnson!” she called, for he had turned 
quickly away. “ Johnson — oh, where did you 
find this? Not in the car, surely? ” 

“ No, Miss Carmel, it was just where you 
thought you had left it — in the field where you 
had lunch. I got up early and fetched it before 
breakfast,” replied Johnson pausing on the door- 
step. 

“ You went all that way! How kind of you! 
Thank you ever so much!” exclaimed Carmel, 
clasping her bangle on her wrist again. “ I can’t 
tell you how pleased I am to have it ! ” 

But Johnson, avoiding her eyes, and seeming 
anxious to get away from her thanks, was already 
out of the front door, and half-way across the 
courtyard to the garage. 

“ I wonder if English men-servants are always 
as shy as that?” thought Carmel. “An Italian 
would certainly have waited to let me say ‘ Thank 


CHAPTER X 


A Meeting 

After a morning in Wells, to look at the Ca- 
thedral and other beauty spots, the party mo- 
tored on to Glastonbury, where again they called 
a halt to look at the Abbey and the Museum. 
Major Rogers was interested in the objects which 
had been excavated from the prehistoric lake 
dwellings in the neighborhood, and spent so much 
time poring over bronze brooches, horn weaving- 
combs, flint scrapers, glass rings, and fragments of 
decorated pottery that Sheila lost all patience. 

“ Is Dad going to spend the whole day in this 
moldy old museum?” she asked dramatically. 
“ I hate anything B. C. ! What does it matter to 
us how people lived in pile dwellings in the middle 
of a lake? To judge from those fancy pictures 
of them on the wall there they must have been a 
set of uncouth savages. Why can’t we drive on 
to Dawlish, or some other decent seaside place, 
instead of poking about in musty cathedrals and 
tiresome museums? I’m fed up! ” 

“Now, Sheila, don’t be naughty! ” whispered 
her mother. “ I’m only too glad to see your 
1 29 


i3° The Princess of the School 


father take an interest in anything. I believe he’s 
enjoying this tour. If you’re tired of the mu- 
seum, go out and look at the shops until we’re 
ready.” 

u There aren’t any worth looking at in a 
wretched little country town!” yawned Sheila. 
“ No, I really don’t want to go over the Abbey 
either, thanks ! I shall sit inside the car and 
write, while you do the sight-seeing.” 

Major Rogers never hurried himself to suit his 
daughter’s whims, so Sheila was left to sit in the 
car, addressing tragic letters and picture post 
cards to her friends, and the rest of the party fin- 
ished examining the museum, and went to view 
the ruins of the famous Abbey. 

“ If Sheila prefers to stay outside, she can look 
after the car,” said her father, “ and I shall take 
Johnson in with us. He’s an intelligent fellow, 
and I’m sure he appreciates the shows. It’s 
rather hard on him if he never gets the chance to 
see anything.” 

“ I believe he goes sight-seeing on his own ac- 
count when he has the opportunity,” replied Mrs. 
Rogers, u but bring him in, by all means. He 
always strikes me as having very refined tastes. 
I should think he’s trying to educate himself. 
But he’s so reserved, I never can get anything out 
of him.” 

“ He seems fond of books,” volunteered Car- 


A Meeting 13 1 

mel. “ He reads all the time when he’s waiting 
for us in the car.” 

Johnson accepted with alacrity the invitation to 
view the Abbey, and walked round the ruins ap- 
parently much interested in what he saw, though, 
following his usual custom, he spoke seldom, and 
then only in brief reply to questions. Once, when 
Major and Mrs. Rogers were puzzling over a 
Latin inscription, he seemed on the point of mak- 
ing a remark, but apparently changed his mind, 
and walked away. 

“He’s almost too well trained!” commented 
Mrs. Rogers. “ Of course a conversational 
chauffeur is a nuisance, but I have an impression 
that Johnson could be quite interesting if he liked. 
Some day I shall try to make him talk.” 

“ Better leave him alone,” said Major Rogers. 
“ I think things do very well as they are.” 

From Glastonbury they motored through the 
beautiful county of Somerset into leafy Devon- 
shire, taking easy stages so as not to overtire the 
invalid, and halting at any place where the guide 
book pointed out objects worthy of notice. To 
please Carmel, they were making in the direction 
of Tivermouth, where they hoped to arrive in 
time to meet the Ingletons. They had tele- 
graphed for rooms at the Hill Crest Hotel, and, 
if the place suited Major Rogers, they proposed 
to spend a week there. 


132 The Princess of the School 


“ There may be perhaps a dance, or a tennis 
tournament, or something interesting going on! ” 
exulted Sheila, who had urged the decision. u At 
any rate there’ll be somebody to talk to in a de- 
cent hotel — it won’t be just all scenery! Let us 
spin along, Dad, and get there! ” 

“ Hurry no man’s cattle! ” replied her father. 
“ Remember, I am out for a ‘ rabbit ’ holiday, and 
I like long rests by the roadside. I’m looking 
forward to a siesta on the grass somewhere this 
afternoon. The scent of the woods does me 
good.” 

So once more the party found a picturesque 
spot and stopped for lunch and an hour or two of 
quiet under the trees before they took again to 
the open road. The spot which they chose this 
time was on a slope reaching down to a river. 
Above was a thick belt of pines, and below the 
water dashed with a pleasant murmuring sound 
very soothing on a warm afternoon. It was an 
ideal “ rabbit playground ” for Major Rogers, 
and he established himself comfortably with rugs 
and cushions after lunch, hoping to be able to 
snatch some much-needed sleep. Mrs. Rogers 
took her knitting from her hand-bag, and Sheila, 
who had a voluminous correspondence, asked 
Johnson for her dispatch case and began to write 
letters. 

As Carmel had nothing very particular to do, 


133 


A Meeting 

and grew tired of sitting still, she rose presently 
and rambled down the wood to the river-side. It 
was beautiful to stand and watch the water swirl- 
ing by, to gaze at the meadow on the opposite 
bank, and to amuse herself by throwing little 
sticks into the hurrying current. There was an 
old split tree-trunk that overhung the bank, and 
it struck her that this would make a most com- 
fortable and delightful rustic seat. She climbed 
on to it quite easily, crawled along, and sat at the 
end with her feet swinging over the river. It 
was such an idyllic situation that she felt herself 
a mixture of a tree nymph and a water nymph, 
or — to follow the Major’s humor — could al- 
most imagine that she was taking her holiday in 
the shape of a bird. If she would have been con- 
tent to remain quietly seated, just enjoying the 
scenery, all might have been well, but unfortun- 
ately Carmel made the discovery that by exercis- 
ing a little energy she could make the stump rock. 
The sensation was as pleasant as a swing. Up 
and down and up and down she swayed, till the 
poor old split tree could bear the strain no longer, 
and suddenly, with an awful crash, the part on 
which she rested broke off, and precipitated her 
into the river. Her cry of terror as she struck 
the water echoed through the wood. As she rose 
to the surface she managed to clutch hold of some 
of the branches and support herself, but she was 


i34 The Princess of the School 


in a position of great danger, for the stump was 
hardly holding to the edge of the bank, and in 
another moment or two would probably be 
whirled away by the current. 

As she shouted again there was a quick dash 
through the undergrowth, and Johnson the chauf- 
feur shot down through the wood at a speed that 
could almost compete with the car’s. In a bound 
he jumped the bank, and, plunging into the river, 
struggled to her help and succeeded in pulling her 
back out of the current into the shallow water 
among the reeds at the brink. 

By this time Major and Mrs. Rogers and Sheila 
had all three rushed to the spot, and were able to 
extend hands from the bank. Carmel and John- 
son both scrambled out of the river wet through 
and covered with mud, the most wretched and 
dilapidated objects. 

u Oh! she’ll take a chilli Whatever are we to 
do to get her dry? ” cried Mrs. Rogers distract- 
edly, mopping her young guest’s streaming face 
with a dainty lace-bordered handkerchief. “ Is 
there a cottage anywhere near?” 

“ We’d better get into the car and motor along 
till we find one,” suggested Major Rogers. 
“ Johnson, you deserve a medal for this ! I never 
saw anything so prompt in my life. It was like 
a whirlwind! ” 

“ We shall make a horrible mess of the car! ” 




A Meeting 135 

objected Carmel, trying to wipe some of the mud 
from her clothes. 

“Never mind; sit on this rug. You’re shiv- 
ering already, child! Sheila, bring my hand-bag 
and your father’s cushion. Now, Johnson, just 
anywhere ! The very first cottage that will take 
us in ! ” 

Luckily they were not far from a village with 
a fairly comfortable inn, where a sympathetic 
landlady provided bedrooms and hot water. As 
their luggage was on the car, it was an easy mat- 
ter to change, and before very long both Carmel 
and her rescuer were in dry garments, and drink- 
ing the hot coffee which Mrs. Rogers insisted 
upon as a preventive against catching cold. 

“ I shall hardly dare to let you out of my sight 
again, Carmel!” she said, half laughingly, yet 
half in earnest. “ I don’t want to have to write 
to your mother and tell her you’re drowned! ” 

“Nonsense!” declared the Major rather tes- 
tily. “It’s not a thing she’s likely to do twice! 
I should think she’d be frightened to go anywhere 
near a river again just yet. Are those clothes 
dry? Well, never mind, pack them as they are; 
we can’t wait for them. And the rug, too, just 
bundle it up and put it at the bottom of the car. 
Johnson can brush it to-morrow. He’s a fine 
chap. I shall write to the ‘ Humane Society ’ 


136 The Princess of the School 


about this business. They ought to give him a 
medal.” 

“ I’ve tried to thank him,” said Carmel, “ but 
directly I begin he dives away and does something 
at the car. He doesn’t seem to want to be 
thanked.” 

“Oh, that’s just Johnson’s usual way!” 
drawled Sheila. “ I expect he’s pleased all the 
same. You look a little more respectable now, 
Carmel. I shouldn’t have liked to take you into 
the Hill Crest Hotel as you were an hour ago! 
I expect after this stoppage we shall arrive too 
late to dress comfortably for dinner, unless John- 
son literally tears along, and then I’m scared out 
of my wits! What a life! I’d never go motor- 
ing for choice ! It’s not my idea of a holiday, 
I must say.” 

After all, though Johnson seldom exceeded the 
speed limit, the Rogers arrived at Tivermouth in 
ample time for Sheila to don a fascinating even- 
ing costume, and to arrange her fair hair in an 
elaborate coiffure. The hotel was full of sum- 
mer visitors, and in her opinion the large dining- 
room with its Moorish decorations, the numerous 
daintily-spread little tables, and the fashionable 
well-dressed crowd who flocked in at the sounding 
of a gong were far more entertaining than a wood 
and a picnic meal. But Sheila was not fond of 
“ rabbit ” holidays. 


i37 


A Meeting 

“ It beats those old-fashioned places we stayed 
at in the country towns, doesn’t it?” she said to 
Carmel, as they sat in the lounge, waiting for Ma- 
jor and Mrs. Rogers to come down stairs. “ By 
the by, are your cousins here? I looked in the 
visitors’ book and couldn’t find their names. 
What has happened to them? ” 

“ A letter from Dulcie was waiting for me,” 
explained Carmel. “ They couldn’t get rooms 
here. They were writing to the ‘ Eagle’s Nest 
Hotel,’ and hoped to get taken in there. I don’t 
know whether they’ve arrived or not. Dulcie 
didn’t say exactly which day they were starting. 
It’s just like Dulcie ! She generally misses out the 
most important point!” 

“ Well, I suppose they’ll look you up when they 
do arrive,” said Sheila carelessly. “ Anyway, I 
bless them for giving us some sort of an anchor 
down here. I feel I’m going to enjoy myself. I 
asked the manageress, and she says there’s to be 
a dance to-night after dinner.” 

Carmel, sitting on a cane chair in the palm 
lounge next morning, agreed with Sheila that Hill 
Crest Hotel was a remarkably comfortable and 
luxurious place. A fountain was splashing near 
her, foreign birds sang and twittered in the aviary, 
and large pots of geraniums made bright patches 
of color under the green of the palms. Pleasant 
though it was, however, it lacked the charm of the 


138 The Princess of the School 

open air, and, throwing down the magazine she 
was reading, Carmel strolled through the hall and 
the glass veranda on to the terrace outside. The 
hotel certainly had a most beautiful situation. As 
its name implied, it stood on the crest of a hill, 
surrounded by woods and grounds that stretched 
to the beach. A little noisy Devonshire river 
raced past it through the glen, and behind it lay 
the heathery waste of a great moorland. Below 
lay the gleaming waters of the bay, with small 
boats bobbing about, and a distant view of the 
crags and headlands of a rugged coast line. The 
terrace was planted with a border of trailing 
pink ivy-leaved geraniums, and the bank that 
sloped below was a superb mass of hydrangeas in 
full bloom, their delicate shades of blue and pink 
looking like the hues of dawn in a clear sky. 

Carmel established herself on a seat to enjoy 
the prospect, and picking up a gray Persian cat 
which was also sunning itself on the terrace, 
fondled the pretty creature in her arms. She 
was seeing England to the best advantage, for 
nowhere could there have been a lovelier scene 
than the one which lay before her delighted eyes. 
Tivermouth had a reputation as a beauty spot, 
and owing to its long distance from the railway 
was as yet unspoilt by a too great invasion of tour- 
ists. There were other hotels nestling among the 
greenery of the woods, and Carmel wondered if 


139 


A Meeting 

the Ingletons had arrived at one of them, and at 
which of the white houses on the beach the boys 
were staying with Miss Mason. 

As she was still gazing and speculating there 
was a crunch of footsteps on the gravel behind, a 
voice called her name, and looking round she saw 
Cousin Clare, Lilias, and Dulcie, hurrying towards 
her. There was an enthusiastic greeting, fol- 
lowed by explanations from all three. 

“ We’d the greatest difficulty to get rooms! ” 
“ The whole place seems full up! ” 

“ They couldn’t take us at the ‘ Eagle’s Nest.’ ” 
“ We’ve got in at the ‘ Victoria,’ though! ” 

“ I wish we could have been here with you ! ” 

“ Never mind, so long as we’re at Tivermouth 
at all!” 

u Isn’t it just too gorgeous for words! ” 

“ We only arrived late last night.” 
u There’s such heaps we want to tell you ! ” 
There was indeed much to be told on both sides. 
All three girls had had numerous experiences dur- 
ing the short time of their parting, and they were 
anxious to compare notes. Then Cousin Clare, 
Lilias, and Dulcie must be introduced to the Rog- 
ers family, who were all writing letters in a 
private sitting-room, but stopped their corres- 
pondence to extend a hearty welcome and to chat 
with the new-comers. In a short time the party 
rearranged itself, leaving Cousin Clare to talk 


140 The Princess of the School 

with Major and Mrs. Rogers, Lilias and Dulcie 
arm-in-arm with Carmel on the terrace, and 
Sheila, who had stepped with them out at the 
French window, straying away with a young High- 
land officer with whom she had danced the night 
before. 

44 Never mind Sheila — she doesn’t want us! ” 
laughed Carmel, squeezing both her cousins’ arms, 
for she was in the middle. “ Oh, it’s nice to see 
you again! Let’s walk along here to the end of 
the terrace. I’ve had all sorts of adventures 
since I saw you. I was nearly drowned yesterday 
in a river, only Johnson, the chauffeur, fished me 
out. You should have seen me all dripping and 
covered with mud. And Johnson was just as bad. 
We made such a mess of the car with our muddy 
clothes. I wonder if he’s got it clean yet? By 
the by, I left my post cards in the side pocket. 
I’d love to show them to you. Shall we go and 
get them? The garage is quite close, only just 
down this path. Do you mind coming? ” 

44 Go ahead; we’d like to,” agreed Dulcie. 

So they plunged down the hill-side on a twist- 
ing path, past the bank of hydrangeas and through 
a grove of shiny-leaved escallonias to where the 
garage, a large building with a corrugated-iron 
roof, stood on a natural platform of rock close to 
the steep high road that flanked the hotel. The 
yard was full of visitors’ cars in process of being 


A Meeting 14 1 

cleaned, and chauffeurs were busy with hose, or 
polishing fittings. 

“ I wonder where Johnson has put ours? ” said 
Carmel, threading her way between an enormous 
Daimler and a pretty little two-seater. “ Oh, 
there it is ! That dark-green one in the corner. 
Come along! There’s just room to pass here 
behind this coupe. I expect the post cards are all 
right. Johnson would take care of them for me. 
I’ll ask him to get them. Johnson! ” 

The chauffeur, who was bending over the car, 
too busy with wrench and screwdriver to notice 
their approach, straightened himself instantly, 
and glanced at the three girls. As his eyes fell 
on Lilias and Dulcie, his expression changed to 
one of utter consternation and amazement, and 
he colored to the roots of his fair hair. They on 
their part gazed at him as if they had encountered 
a specter. 

“ Everard! ” gasped Dulcie. 

“Everard!” faltered Lilias. “ It’s never 
you! y) 

Here indeed was a drama. Four more aston- 
ished young people it would have been impossible 
to conceive. For a moment Everard seemed as 
if he were going to bolt, but Carmel, whose quick 
mind instantly grasped the situation, motioned 
him into the empty motor-shed behind, and, fol- 


142 The Princess of the School 

lowing with Lilias and Dulcie, partly closed the 
door. 

“ So you’re Everard, are you? ” she said, look- 
ing at him hard. “ Well, to tell you the truth, 
I never thought your name was really Johnson ! I 
told Sheila I was sure you were a gentleman. 
Why have you been masquerading like this? 
Why don’t you go home to the Chase? ” 

“ Oh, do come home, Everard! ” echoed Lilias 
entreatingly. 

The ex-chauffeur shook his head. He was still 
almost too covered with confusion to admit of 
speech. 

“ I didn’t expect to meet you girls,” he said at 
last. “ The best thing you can do is just to for- 
get me, and leave me where I am. I shall never 
go back to the Chase ! That point I’ve quite de- 
cided.” 

“ But we want you there,” said Carmel gently. 

“ You! ” Everard looked frankly puzzled. 

u Oh, Everard!” burst out Dulcie. “You 
don’t understand! You ran away and never 
waited to hear anything, and we couldn’t write to 
you, because you sent no address. You thought 
Grandfather had left the property to a boy cousin 
— Leslie!” 

“Well, didn’t he?” 

“ Yes, and no ! There is no boy cousin. This 


A Meeting 143 

is Leslie — only she’s called Carmel — the heiress 
of Cheverley Chase! ” 

“You!” exclaimed Everard again, gazing at 
Carmel. 

“ Don’t call me ‘ the heiress,’ Dulcie,” pro- 
tested Carmel. “You know I’ve said from the 
very first that I don’t intend to take the Chase 
away from you all. It’s yours every bit as much 
as mine, and more so, because my own real home 
is in Sicily, and I hope to go back there some day. 
Everard, will you make friends with me on that 
understanding, and shake hands? I don’t want 
to turn anybody out of the Chase.” 

Carmel held out a slim little hand, and Everard 
accepted it delicately, as if it had been that of a 
princess. 

u I’m still stunned,” he remarked. “ To think 
I should have been driving you all this time, and 
not have known you were Leslie Ingleton ! I 
never chanced to hear your surname. I thought 
you were Mrs. Rogers’ niece.” 

“ And so I am ! ” laughed Carmel. “ At least 
she’s my step-aunt, at any rate. Isn’t it a regular 
Comedy of Errors? n 

“ Everard,” put in Lilias, “ why did you turn 
chauffeur? We thought you had run away to 
sea!” 

“ I meant to,” answered her brother bitterly, 
“ but when it came to the point of getting em- 


144 The Princess of the School 

ployment, I found the only thing I could earn a 
living at was driving a car. I don’t know that 
I even do that very decently, but at any rate I’m 
self-supporting. You’d better leave me where I 
am! It’s all I’m good for! ” 

“ Not a bit of it! ” answered Carmel. “ I’ve 
arranged the whole thing in my mind already. 
We’ll make an exchange. Milner shall take 
charge of the car for the Rogers until they can 
find another chauffeur, and you shall drive Cousin 
Clare and Lilias and Dulcie and me back to the 
Chase. Now don’t begin to talk, for it’s quite 
settled, and for once in my life I declare I mean 
to have my own way! ” 


CHAPTER XI 


A Secret Society 

Carmel seldom asserted herself, but if she set 
her heart on an object she generally managed to 
persuade people to her way of thinking. This 
case proved no exception, and she contrived with 
little difficulty to transfer the amazed but willing 
Milner temporarily into the service of Major 
Rogers, and to instal Everard, minus his chauf- 
feur’s uniform, and looking once more an Ingle- 
ton, to drive the Daimler car back to Cheverley 
Chase. Perhaps the talk which Major Rogers 
had with his one-time “ Johnson ” partly worked 
the miracle. Exactly what he said was entirely 
between themselves, but Everard burst out into 
eulogies regarding the Major to Lilias, who was 
still his chief confidante. 

“ One of the best chaps I’ve ever met! A real 
good sort! I shan’t forget what he said to me. 
I can tell you I’ve come to look at things in a dif- 
ferent light lately. I’ll do anything he suggests. 
I’d trust his advice sooner than that of anybody 
I know. I’ll have a good talk with Bowden, and 
see if he agrees. By Jove ! I shall be a surprise 
packet to him, shan’t I? ” 

145 


146 The Princess of the School 


Mr. Bowden was not nearly so much astonished 
as Everard had anticipated. He took his ward’s 
return quite as a matter of course, and, lawyer- 
like, at once turned to the business side of affairs. 
After running away and gaining his own living 
for so many months, it was neither possible nor 
desirable for Everard to go back to Harrow. 
He had broken the last link with his school days, 
and must face the problem of his future career. 
His grandfather had wished him to go on to 
Cambridge, and his guardian also considered it 
would be advisable for him to take a university 
degree. Meantime his studies were very much in 
arrears. He had never worked hard at school, 
and would need considerable application to his 
books before being ready to begin his terms at 
college. By the advice of Major Rogers, Mr. 
Bowden decided to engage a tutor to coach him at 
the Chase. The house would be perfectly quiet 
while the girls and the younger boys were away at 
school, and as Everard really seemed to take the 
matter seriously, he might be expected to make 
good progress. 

In the matter of a tutor, Major Rogers was 
fortunately able to recommend just the right man. 
Mr. Stacey had been studying for orders at Cam- 
bridge when he was called up, and had joined the 
army. After serious wounds in France he had 
made a slow recovery, and though perfectly able 


147 


A Secret Society 

to act as coach, he would be glad of a period of 
quiet in the country before returning to Cam- 
bridge. He was a brilliant scholar and a thor- 
oughly good all-round fellow, who might be 
trusted to make the best possible companion for 
Everard in the circumstances. The whole busi- 
ness was fixed up at once, and he was to arrive 
within ten days. 

“ I’m sorry we shall just miss seeing him ! ” said 
Carmel to Everard, on the evening before the 
girls went back to Chilcombe Flail. “ But I shall 
think of you studying away at your Maths. 
You’re clever, aren’t you, Everard? I don’t 
know much about English universities, but isn’t a 
Tripos what you work for at Cambridge? Sup- 
pose you came out Senior Wrangler ! We should 
be proud of you ! ” 

“ No fear of that, I’m afraid, Carmel! I’m a 
long way behind and shall have to swat like any- 
thing to get myself up to even ordinary standard. 
Burn the midnight oil, and all that kind of weari- 
ness to the flesh ! ” 

“ But you’ll do it! ” (Carmel was looking at 
him critically.) “ You’ve got the right shape of 
head. Daddy and one of his friends, Signor 
Penati, were fearfully keen on phrenology, and 
they used to make me notice the shape of people’s 
heads, and of the Greek and Roman busts in the 


148 The Princess of the School 


museums. It's wonderful how truly they tell 
character: the rules hardly ever fail.” 

“ What do you make of my particular phiz, 
then, you young Sicilian witch? ” 

u Great ability if you only persevere; a noble 
mind and patriotism — your forehead is just like 
the bust of the Emperor Augustus. You'd ^corn 
bribes, and speak out for the right. I prophesy 
that you'll some day get into Parliament, and do 
splendid work for your country! ” 

“ Whew ! I’m afraid I’ll never reach your ex- 
pectations. It's a big order you've laid down for 
me. 

“ You could do it, though, if you try. Oh, 
don’t contradict me, for I know ! I haven’t 
studied heads with Signor Penati for nothing. 
First you’re going to make a good master of the 
Chase, and then you’ll help England.” 

“ Not of the Chase, Carmel,” said Everard 
gently. “ We’ve argued that point out thor- 
oughly, I think.” 

“ No, no ! Let me tell you once again that I 
don’t want to be mistress here. I only came over 
to England to please Mother and Daddy. I’m 
going back to Sicily to live, as soon as I can choose 
for myself. Directly I’m twenty-one I shall hand 
over the Chase to you. You’re a far more suit- 
able owner for it than I am. I feel that strongly. 
It ought never to have been left to me. But I’ll 


149 


A Secret Society 

put all that right again. Why can’t you take It? ” 
she continued eagerly, as Everard shook his head. 
“Surely I can give it to you If I like? Why 
not? ” 

“Why not? You’re too young yet to under- 
stand. How could I be such an utter slacker and 
sneak as to accept your inheritance? It’s un- 
thinkable. Put that idea out of your little head, 
for it can never happen. As for the rest of your 
prophecy, it’s a long climb to get into Parliament. 
I’m nothing like the man you think me, Carmel, 
though I’m going to make a spurt now, at any 
rate. Don’t expect to find me a Senior Wrangler 
by Christmas though. Mr. Stacey will probably 
tell you I’m an utter dunderhead.” 

“I shall quarrel with him if he does!” said 
Carmel decidedly. 

The three girls went back to school on the fol- 
lowing day, half regretful to leave the Chase, 
but rather excited at the prospect of meeting their 
companions. Now that Carmel had got over her 
first stage of homesickness, she liked Chilcombe 
and had made many friends there. She intended 
to enjoy the autumn term to the best of her abil- 
ity. She had brought the materials for pursuing 
several pet hobbies, and she settled all her num- 
erous possessions into her small bedroom with 
much satisfaction. She kept the door into the 
Blue Grotto open, so that she might talk during 


150 The Princess of the School 

the process. Gowan, also busy unpacking, kept 
firing off pieces of information, Bertha flitted in 
and out like a butterfly, and gk Is from other dor- 
mitories paid occasional visits. 

Phillida, who was a prime favorite, presently 
came in, and installing herself on the end of Dul- 
cie’s bed, so that she could address the occupants 
of both bedrooms, began to draw plans. 

“ I’ve got an idea ! ” she announced. “ It’s a 
jolly good one, too, so you needn’t smile. It’s a 
good thing somebody does have ideas in this place, 
or you’d all go to sleep ! Well, it’s this. I really 
can’t stand the swank of those girls in the Gold 
bedroom. They seem to imagine the school be- 
longs to them. They’re not very much older than 
we are, indeed Nona is actually six weeks younger 
than Lilias, and yet they give themselves the airs 
of all creation. Just now Laurette said to me: 
4 Get out of my way, child!’ Child, indeed! 
I’m fifteen, and tall for my age ! I vote that we 
start a secret society, just among our own set, to 
resist them.” 

44 Jolly!” agreed Dulcie. 44 A little whole- 
some taking down is just what they need. Lau- 
rette’s the limit sometimes. Whom shall we ask 
to join? ” 

44 Well, all of you here, and myself, and No- 
reen, and Prissie, and Edith. That would make 


nine. 


A Secret Society 151 

“ Quite enough too/’ said Gowan. “ A secret 
society’s much greater fun if it’s small. Things 
are apt to leak out when you have too many mem- 
bers. I take it we want to play an occasional 
rag on the Gold bedroom? Very well, the fewer 
in it the better.” 

“What shall we call our society?” asked 
Dulcie. 

“ 4 The Anti-Swelled Headers ’ would about 
suit,” suggested Lilias. 

“ No, no! That sounds as if we were afraid 
of getting swelled head ourselves — at least any- 
body might take it that way.” 

“ There’s a big secret society in Sicily called 
4 The Mafia,’ ” vouchsafed Carmel. 

“ Then let us call ours 4 The Chilcombe Mafia.’ 
No one will understand what we mean, even if 
they get hold of the name. Indeed I shouldn’t 
mind casually mentioning it now and then, just to 
puzzle them. When things get bad, 4 The Mafia ’ 
will take them up.” 

44 Strike secretly and suddenly! ” agreed Dulcie 
with a chuckle. 

44 Let’s sign our names at once ! ” declared 
Phillida enthusiastically. 

At Carmel’s suggestion, however, they made 
rather more of a ceremony of the initiation of 
their new order. The prospective members re- 
tired into the wood above the garden, and in strict 


152 The Princess of the School 

privacy took an oath of secrecy and service. 
Then, with Edith’s fountain pen filled for the oc- 
casion with red ink, they inscribed their auto- 
graphs on a piece of paper, rolled it up, placed it 
in a bottle, then solemnly dug a hole, and buried 
the said bottle under a tree. 

“ It will be here for a testimony against any 
girl who breaks her oath ! ” declared Phillida. 
“ Carmel says the real Mafia sign their names in 
blood, but I think that’s horrid, and red ink will 
do quite as well. Just as I was coming out now, 
Laurette said to me; ‘Oh, don’t go running 
away, because I want one of you younger ones to 
do something for me presently.’ She said it with 
the air of a duchess! ” 

“ Cheek! ” agreed the others. “ It’s high time 
we made up a society against her ! ” 

Many and various were the offences that were 
laid to Laurette’s score. Lilias had a private 
grievance, because she fancied that Laurette had 
never been so civil to herself and Dulcie since it 
was known that their brother was not to inherit 
the Chase. Gowan, who liked plain speaking, 
accused Laurette of telling “ fiblets Bertha had 
had a squabble over the bathroom, and Prissie a 
wrestle for the piano. 

“ Laurette always reminds me of that rhyme 
that the undergrads made up about the Master 
of Balliol,” said Edith. 


153 


A Secret Society 

“ ‘ Here come I, my name is Jowett, 

All there is to know, I know it; 

I’m the head of this here College, 

What I don’t know isn’t knowledge ! * 

That’s Laurette’s attitude exactly. She’s so su- 
perior to everybody!” 

“ We’ll take her down, don’t worry yourself! ” 
smiled Dulcie. “ We must just wait for a good 
opportunity, and then ” 

“ The secret hand will smite ! ” laughed Car- 
mel, who enjoyed the fun as much as anybody. 

Laurette’s aggravatingly superior pose was es- 
pecially apparent in her attitude towards the mis- 
tresses. She monopolized Miss Herbert, treated 
her almost like a friend, wrote notes to her, left 
flowers in her bedroom, and walked arm-in-arm 
with her in the garden. Perhaps the mistress was 
lonely, possibly she was flattered by receiving so 
much attention, at any rate she allowed Laurette 
to be on terms of great intimacy, and gave her a far 
larger share of her confidence than was at all wise. 
Laurette, after a hot affection lasting three weeks, 
got tired of Miss Herbert, and suddenly cooled 
off. Gowan and Carmel, going into the sitting- 
room one day, found her discussing her former 
idol with a group of her chums. 

“ Do you call her pretty? Well, now, I 
don't! ” she was saying emphatically. “ She may 
have been pretty once, but now she’s getting de- 


154 The Princess of the School 

cidedly passee. I can’t say I admire faded sen- 
timental people ! ” 

“ Sentimental? ” said Truie. “ I shouldn’t call 
her sentimental at all. She’s only too horribly 
practical, in my opinion! ” 

“ You don’t know her as I do! My dear! 
The things she’s told me! The love affairs she’s 
been through ! I had the whole history of them. 
And she used to blush, and look most romantic. 
It was all I could do not to burst out laughing. 
You’d scream if I were to tell you! First there 
was a clergyman ” 

“Here, stop!” interrupted Gowan, breaking 
abruptly into the conversation, and turning two 
blazing blue eyes on Laurette. “ Anything Miss 
Herbert may have told you was certainly in con- 
fidence, and to go and blab it over the school 
seems to me the meanest, sneakiest trick I’ve ever 
heard of ! You’re an absolute blighter, Lau- 
rette ! ” 

“Well, I’m sure! What business is it of 
yours, Gowan Barbour, or of Carmel Ingleton’s 
either? Cheek!” 

“ It is our business! ” flared Carmel, as indig- 
nant as Gowan. “ It’s horribly mean to make 
friends with any one, and hear all her secrets, 
and then go and make fun of them!” 

“It’s playing it low!” added Gowan, deter- 
mined to speak her mind for once. “ And I hope 


155 


A Secret Society 

somebody will make fun of you some day just to 
serve you right ! Some day you’ll be faded and 
passee } and people will giggle and say you haven’t 
‘ got off ’ in spite of all your efforts, and they won- 
der how old you really are, and they remember 
when you came out, and you can’t be a chicken, 
and they don’t like to see 4 mutton dressed like 
lamb,’ and all the rest of the kind pleasant things 
that people of your type find to say. I know ! 
Well, I shan’t be in the least sorry for you! It 
will be a judgment ! ” 

Laurette had made a desperate attempt to in- 
terrupt Gowan’s flow of words, but she might as 
well have tried to stop the brook. When Gowan 
began, she never even paused for breath. Her 
wrath was like a whirlwind. Laurette’s three 
chums had turned away as if rather ashamed, 
and began hastily to get out books and writing- 
materials. They pretended not to notice when 
Laurette looked at them for support. 

“ Yes, you needn’t think Truie and Hester and 
Muriel will back you up ! ” continued Gowan. 
“Unless they’re as mean as you are. There! 
I’ve finished now, so you needn’t butt in! You 
know exactly what I think of you. Come along, 
Carmel! ” 

The two immediate results of this episode were 
a bitter feud between Laurette and Gowan, and a 
sympathetic interest in Miss Herbert by all the 


156 The Princess of the School 


members of the Mafia. They felt that her con- 
fidence had been betrayed, and they would have 
liked somehow to make it up to her. They 
brought so many floral offerings to her bedroom 
that her vases were almost inconveniently 
crowded. 

Carmel, hearing that she was collecting post 
cards, sent home for some special ones of Sicily; 
Dulcie tendered chocolates; Lilias crocheted her 
a pincushion cover, and Bertha painted her a hair- 
tidy. She accepted their little kindnesses with 
mild astonishment, but not a hint of the real rea- 
son of their sudden advances flashed across her 
mind. 

“ We mustn’t let her suspect! ” said Dulcie. 

“ Rather not! ” agreed Carmel. 

“ Not for worlds ! ” said Gowan emphatically. 


CHAPTER XII 


White Magic 

October passed by with flaming crimson and 
gold on the trees, and orange and mauve toad- 
stools among the moss of the woods, and squir- 
rels scampering up the Scotch pines at the top of 
the garden, laying by their winter store of nuts; 
and flocks of migrating birds twittering in the 
fields, and hosts of glittering red hips and haws 
in the hedges, and shrouds of fairy gossamer over 
the blackberry bushes. It was Carmel’s first au- 
tumn in England, and, though her artistic tem- 
perament revelled in the beauty of the tints, the 
falling leaves filled her with consternation. 

“ It is so sad to see them all come down,” she 
declared. “ Why the trees will soon be quite 
bare! Nothing but branches left! ” 

u What else do you expect?” asked Gowan. 
“ They won’t keep green all the winter.” 

“ I suppose not. But in Sicily we have so many 
evergreens and shrubs that flower all the winter. 
The oranges and lemons begin to get ripe soon 
after Christmas, and we have agaves and prickly 
pears everywhere. I can’t imagine a landscape 
without any leaves ! ” 


i57 


158 The Princess of the School 


“Wait till you see the snow! It’s prime 
then! ” 

“ There’s generally snow on Etna, but I haven’t 
been up so high. It doesn’t fall where we live.” 

“ Girl alive ! Have you never made a snow- 
ball?” 

“ Never.” 

“ Then it’s a treat in store for you. I sin- 
cerely hope we shall have a hard winter.” 

“ We ought to, by the number of berries in the 
hedges,” put in Bertha. “ It’s an old saying that 
they foretell frost. 

“ ‘ Bushes red with hip and haw, 

Weeks of frost without a thaw.’ 

I don’t know whether it always comes true, 
though.” 

“ I’m a believer in superstitions,” declared Go- 
wan. “ Scotch people generally are, I think. 
My great-grandmother used to have second sight. 
By the by; it’s Hallowe’en on Friday! I vote we 
rummage up all the old charms we can, and try 
them. It would be ever such fun.” 

“Topping! Only let us keep it to the Mafia, 
and not let the others know.” 

“Zither! We don’t want Laurette and Co. 
butting in.” 

The remaining members of the Mafia, when 
consulted, received the idea with enthusiasm. 


i59 


White Magic 

There is a vein of superstition at the bottom of 
the most practical among us, and all of them were 
well accustomed to practice such rites as throwing 
spilt salt over the left shoulder, curtseying to the 
new moon, and turning their money when they 
heard the cuckoo. 

“ Not, of course, that it always follows,” said 
Prissie. “ On Easter holidays a bird used to 
come and tap constantly at our drawing-room 
window at home. It was always doing it. Of 
course that means { a death in the family,’ but we 
all kept absolutely hearty and well. Not even a 
third cousin once removed has died, and it’s more 
than two years ago. Mother says it was prob- 
ably catching insects on the glass. She laughs at 
omens ! ” 

“ I always double my thumb inside my fist if I 
walk under a ladder,” volunteered Noreen. 

“ Well, it is unlucky to go under a ladder,” 
declared Phillida. “ You may get a pot of paint 
dropped on your head ! I saw that happen once 
to a poor lady : it simply turned upside down on 
her, and deluged her hat and face and everything 
with dark green paint. She had to go into a 
shop to be wiped. It must have been awful for 
her, and for her clothes as well. I’ve never for- 
gotten it.” 

“ What could we do on Hallowe’en?” asked 
Edith. 


160 The Princess of the School 


“ Well, we must try to think it out, and make 
some plans.” 

From the recesses of their memories the girls 
raked up every superstition of which they had ever 
heard. These had to be divided into the possible 
and the impossible. There are limits of liberty 
in a girls’ school, and it was manifestly infeasible, 
as well as very chilly, to attempt to stray out alone 
at the stroke of twelve, robed merely in a night- 
gown, and fetch three pails of water to place by 
one’s bedside. Gowan’s north country recipe for 
divination was equally impracticable — to go out 
at midnight, and “ dip your smock in a south- 
running spring where the lairds’ lands meet,” then 
hang it to dry before the fire. They discussed it 
quite seriously, however, in all its various aspects. 

“To begin with, what exactly is a smock?” 
asked Carmel. 

Everybody had a hazy notion, but nobody was 
quite sure about it. 

“ Usen’t farm laborers to wear them once?” 
suggested Lilias. 

“ But Shakespeare says, 

“ ‘ When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, 

And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks, 

When ring the woods with rooks and daws, 

And maidens bleach their summer smocks,’ ” 


objected Prissie. 


White Magic 161 

“Was it an upper or an under garment?” 
questioned Noreen. 

“ I’m sure I don’t know. I don’t fancy we 
any of us possess 4 smocks ’ ! ” 

u Then we certainly can’t go and soak them in 
a spring! ” 

“ And there is no 4 laird ’ here, and even if you 
count an ordinary owner of property as a 4 laird,’ 
you don’t know where the boundaries are! ” 

44 No, that floors us completely! ” 

An expedition to the cellar for apples would be 
an equally hopeless quest, for all the harvest of 
the orchard had been stored in the loft, and was 
under lock and key. Some minor experiments, 
however, might be tried with apple skins, so they 
determined to pocket their next dessert, and keep 
it till the magic hour of divination arrived. Hot 
chestnuts would be a distinct possibility, and a 
little coaxing at head-quarters would doubtless re- 
sult in Jones the gardener bringing a bag full for 
them from Glazebrook. 

They felt quite excited when the fateful day 
arrived. Miss Walters had made no objection to 
an order for chestnuts, and had even allowed a 
modicum of toffee to be added to the list. She 
did not refer to the subject of Hallowe’en, for she 
had some years ago suppressed the custom of bob- 
bing for apples, finding that the girls invariably 


1 62 The Princess of the School 


got their hair wet, and had colds in their heads 
in consequence. 

The members of the Mafia, well stocked there- 
fore with the apples and chestnuts necessary for 
divination, remained in their schoolroom after 
evening preparation, so as to have a gay time all 
to themselves. To make matters more thrill- 
some they turned out the light, and sat in the 
flickering glow of the fire. Gowan, having the 
largest acquaintance with the occult, not to speak 
of having possessed a great-grandmother endowed 
with second sight, was universally acknowledged 
priestess of the ceremonies. 

“ Shall we begin with apples or chestnuts? ” she 
asked seriously. 

As some said one thing and some another, she 
held a specimen of each behind her back, and 
commanded Carmel to choose right hand or left. 
The lot fell upon chestnuts, and these were placed 
neatly in pairs along the bars of the grate. 

“ You name them after yourself and your 
sweetheart,” explained Gowan. “ If he pops 
first, he’ll ask you to marry him.” 

“And suppose the other pops first?” asked 
Carmel. 

“ Then you won’t marry him! ” 

“ Doesn’t it mean that it may be Leap Year, 
and the girl will ‘pop the question’?” asked 
Dulcie, still giggling. 


163 


White Magic 

“ No, it doesn’t.” 

“ Suppose they neither of them pop?” said 
Prissie. 

“ It’s a sign that neither cares, but it’s not very 
likely to happen — they nearly always pop.” 

“ I pricked mine with my penknife, though.” 

“ The more goose you! Take them back and 
try two fresh ones.” 

It is rather a delicate and finger-scorching pro- 
cess to balance chestnuts on the bars, and as a mat- 
ter of fact Prissie’s tumbled into the fire, and 
could not be rescued. The party was obliged to 
watch them burn. They helped her to place an- 
other in position, then sat round, keeping careful 
eyes on their particular representatives. It was 
forbidden to reveal names, so each kept the iden- 
tity of her favored swain locked in her breast. 
It seemed a long time before those chestnuts.were 
ready! Love’s delays are notoriously hard to 
bear. Never were omens watched so anxiously. 
Slap! Bang! Pop! at last came from Car- 
mel’s particular corner, and fragments flew about 
indiscriminately on to hearth and fire. 

“ It’s 4 him ’ ! ” cried Gowan ungrammatically. 
“ He’s done it most thoroughly too ! Carmel, 
you’ll be married the first of any of us ! You’ll 
ask us to the wedding, won’t you? ” 

At that moment a chorus of pops came from 
the grate, causing much rejoicing or dismay from 


1 64 The Princess of the School 


the various owners of the chestnuts, according to 
the fate meted out to them by the omens. On the 
whole Cupid was kind, though Lilias and Gowan 
were left in the lurch. 

“ I don’t care ! ” said Gowan sturdily. “ I’ve 
another in my mind, and perhaps I shall get him 
in the apple-peels.” 

“And if you don’t?” 

“ I’ll meet somebody else later on.” 

Having eaten more or less charred pieces of 
chestnut, the girls produced their apples, and once 
more set to work to try magic. The apple had to 
be peeled entirely in one long piece, which must 
then be slung backwards over the left shoulder on 
to the floor, where it would form the initial of the 
future lover. It was a matter for skilful manipu- 
lation of penknives, not at all easy to manage, so 
difficult in fact, that Noreen and Dulcie each made 
a slip, and chopped their precious pieces of peel 
in the middle, thus rendering them useless for pur- 
poses of divination. Lilias, who made the first 
essay, was completely puzzled by the result, which 
did not resemble any known letter in the alphabet, 
though Gowan, anxious to interpret the oracles, 
construed it into a W. Edith’s long thin piece of 
peel made a plain C, a fact which seemed to cause 
her much satisfaction, though she would betray 
no names. Prissie broke her luck in half in the 


White Magic 165 

very act of flinging it, but insisted that the two 
separate portions each formed an O. 

It was Carmel’s turn next, and her rather 
broad piece of peel twisted itself into a most palp- 
ble E. She looked at it for a moment as if 
rather taken aback, then her face cleared. 

“ There are quite a number of names that begin 
with E,” she remarked enigmatically. 

Now it was all very well to sit in the sanctuary 
of their schoolroom trying such mild magic as 
divinition through chestnuts and apple skins. 
Gowan’s northern blood yearned after more subtle 
witchcraft. 

“ I shan’t be content till I’ve pulled a cabbage 
stalk! ” she declared. “ I don’t see why we need 
wait till midnight ! Hallowe’en is Hallowe’en as 
soon as it’s dark, I should think. Who’s game to 
fly up the kitchen-garden? ” 

“ What? Now?” 

u Why not? We should only be gone a few 
minutes and Miss Hardy would never find out.” 

“ It really would be a frolicsome joke! ” 

“ There’s a moon, too! ” 

“ I vote we risk it ! ” 

“ Come along! ” 

Nine giggling girls therefore stole cautiously 
downstairs, a little delayed by Prissie, who, with a 
most unusual concern for her health, insisted on 


1 66 The Princess of the School 


fetching a wrap. They opened the side door, 
and peeped out into the night. It was quite fine, 
with a clear full moon, and clouds drifting high 
in the sky. The vegetable garden was so near 
that the ceremony could be very quickly per- 
formed. It was, of course, breaking rules to 
leave the house after dark, but not one of them 
could resist the temptation, so out they sped to 
the cabbage patch. 

Now when Prissie rati to her bedroom, osten- 
sibly to get a wrap, she had really gone with 
quite other intentions. She had certainly put on 
a long dark coat and a soft felt hat, but the whole 
gist of the matter lay in something that she slipped 
into her pocket. It was a black mustache that 
she had brought to school for use in theatricals, 
and lay handy in her top drawer. She had hastily 
smeared the under side of it with soap, so that 
it would adhere to her lip, and once out in the 
garden, she fell behind the others and fixed it in 
position. Then she made a detour behind some 
bushes, so as to conceal herself from the party. 

Presently, under the bright moon and scudding 
clouds, eight much-thrilled girls were hurriedly 
pulling away at cabbage stalks, and estimating, by 
the amount of earth that came up with them, 
the wealth of their future husbands. The gen- 
eral surroundings and the associations of the eve- 
ning were sufficient to send shivers down their 


White Magic 167 

spines. Gowan, looking up suddenly, saw stand- 
ing among the bushes a dark figure with a heavy 
black mustache, and she caught her breath with a 
gasp, and clutched at Carmel’s arm. For an in- 
stant eight horrified faces stared at the apparition, 
then Dulcie made a dive in its direction, and 
dragged forth Prissie. 

“ You wretch ! ” 

“ What a mean trick to play! ” 

“ You didn’t take me in! ” 

“ It was very clever, though ! ” 

“ You really looked just like a spook! ” 

“ Take it off now! ” 

“ No, no!” said Prissie. “Leave me alone! 
I haven’t finished. Hush! I believe somebody 
else is coming to try the ordeal. Slip behind that 
cucumber-frame and hide, and let us see who it is. 
Quick! You’ll be caught! ” 

The girls made a swift, but silent, dash for the 
shadow of the cucumber-frame, and concealed 
themselves only just in time. They were barely 
hidden when footsteps resounded on the gravel, 
and a figure advanced from the direction of the 
house. It came alone, and it carried something 
in its hand. In the clear beams of the moon- 
light, the Mafia had no difficulty in recognizing 
Laurette, and could see that what she bore was 
her bedroom mirror. They chuckled inwardly. 
Most evidently she had sallied forth to try the 


1 68 The Princess of the School 


white magic of Hallowe’en, and to make the spell 
work more securely had come alone to consult 
the cabbage oracle. 

First she placed her mirror on the ground, 
and tilted its swing glass to a convenient angle 
at which to catch reflections. Then she pulled 
hard at a stalk, looked with apparent satisfaction 
at the decidedly thick lumps of earth that adhered 
(which, if the magic were to be trusted, must 
represent a considerable fortune) ; then, clasping 
her cabbage in her hand, knelt down in front of 
the looking-glass, and began to mutter something 
to herself in a low voice. Her back was towards 
the cucumber-frame and the bushes, and her eyes 
were fixed on her mirror. 

Prissie, looking on, realized that it was the 
chance of a lifetime. She stole on tiptoe from 
her retreat, and peeped over Laurette’s shoulder 
so that her reflection should be displayed in the 
glass. Laurette, seeing suddenly a most unex- 
pected vision of a dark mustache, literally yelled 
with fright, sprang up, and turned round to face 
her “ spook,” then with a further blood-curdling 
scream, dashed down the garden towards the 
house. The Mafia, rising from the shadow of 
the cucumber-frame, laughed long, though with 
caution. 

“ What an absolutely topping joke ! ” whispered 
Dulcie. 


White Magic 169 

“ And on Laurette, of all people in this wide 
world! ” rejoiced Bertha. 

“ Congrats., Prissie! ” 

“ You did play up no end! ” 

“I flatter myself I made her squeal and run! ” 
smirked Prissie. “It just serves her right! I 
was longing for a chance to get even with her ! ” 

“What about the looking-glass?” asked Car- 
mel. “ Won’t some of them be coming out to 
fetch it?” 

“ Yes, of course they will! We must take it 
in at once. Let us scoot round the other way, 
and go in by the back door before Laurette and 
Co. catch us ! ” 

Prissie seized the mirror, and the nine girls fled 
by another path to the door near the kitchen, 
where by great good luck they avoided meeting 
any of the servants, and were able to bolt upstairs 
unseen. The Gold bedroom was empty — no 
doubt its occupants were shivering at the side 
door — so they were able to restore the looking- 
glass to its place on the dressing-table as a surprise 
for Laurette when she returned. Whether she 
suspected them or not, it was impossible to tell, 
for she kept her own counsel, and, though next 
day they referred casually to Hallowe’en observ- 
ances, she only glanced at them with half-closed 
eyelids, and remarked that she was quite above 
such silly superstitions. 


170 The Princess of the School 


“ Which is more than a fiblet, and about the 
biggest whopper that Miss Laurette Aitken has 
ever told in her life ! ” declared Prissie, still chuck- 
ling gleefully at the remembrance of the startled 
figure fleeing down the garden. 


CHAPTER XIII 


The Money-makers 

“ All Saints’ ” brought a brief spell of golden 
weather, a snatch of Indian summer, as if Perse- 
phone, loth to go down into the Underworld, had 
managed to steal a few days’ extra leave from 
Pluto, and had remained to scatter some last 
flowers on earth before her long banishment from 
the sunshine. Under the sheltered brick wall in 
the kitchen-garden Czar violets were blooming, 
sweet and fragrant as those of spring; the rose 
trees had burst out into a second crop, and the 
chrysanthemums were such a special show that 
Miss Walters almost shook hands with Jones the 
gardener over them. Little wild flowers blos- 
somed on in quiet nooks at the edge of the shrub- 
bery, and butterflies, brought out by the bright 
days, made a last flutter in the sunshine. The 
leaves, which Carmel had grieved so much to see 
fall, lay crisp and golden on the ground, but the 
bare boughs of the trees, somewhat to her sur- 
prise, held a beauty of form and tint quite their 
own. 


171 


172 The Princess of the School 


“ They are all sorts of lovely soft delicate 
colors,” she remarked. “ Quite different from 
trees in Sicily. I think it must be the damp in 
the air here that does it; everything seems seen 
through a blue haze — a kind of fairy glamour 
that makes them different from what they are ! ” 
“ Wait till you see them on a sousing wet De- 
cember morning!” declared Gowan. “ You 
won’t find much romance about them then! ” 
“But in the meantime we’ll enjoy them! ” said 
Miss Walters, who happened to overhear. 
“Who votes for a walk this afternoon? Any- 
body who prefers to stop at home and write 
French translation may do so!” 

The girls grinned. Miss Walters did not often 
give them an unexpected holiday, so such treats 
were appreciated when they came. Twenty-one 
enthusiasts donned strong boots, jerseys, and 
tam-o’-shanters, and started forth for a ramble 
on the hill-side. They had climbed through the 
wood, and were walking along the upper road 
that led to the hamlet of Five Stone Bridge, when 
they came face to face with a very curious little 
cavalcade. Two large soap boxes, knocked to- 
gether, had been placed on old perambulator 
wheels, and in this roughly fashioned chariot, on a 
bundle of straw and an old shawl, reclined a little, 
thin, white-faced girl. One sturdy boy of ten was 
pushing the queer conveyance, while a younger 


The Money-Makers 173 

pulled it by a piece of rope, and the small occu- 
pant, her lap full of flowers, smiled as proudly as 
a queen on coronation day. Against the back- 
ground of green hedgerow and red village roofs, 
the happy children made a charming picture; they 
had not noticed the approach of the school, and 
were laughing together in absolute unconscious- 
ness. The sight of them at that particular mo- 
ment was one of those brief glimpses into the 
heart of other folks’ lives that only come to us on 
chance occasions, when by some accident we peep 
over the wall of human reserve into the inner 
circle of thought and feeling. Almost with one 
accord the girls stopped and smiled. 

u I wish I’d brought my camera ! ” murmured 
Dulcie. 

“ They’re too sweet for words ! ” agreed 
Prissie. 

Miss Walters spoke to the children, asked their 
names, and ascertained that the little girl had been 
ill for a long time, and could not walk. They 
were shy, however, and all the spontaneous glad- 
ness that had made the first snap-shot view of 
them so charming faded away in the presence of 
strangers. They accepted some pieces of choco- 
late, and remained by the hedge bank staring with 
solemn eyes as the line of the school filed away. 
The chance meeting was no doubt an event on 
both sides: the children would tell their mother 


174 The Princess of the School 

about the ladles who had spoken to them, and the 
girls, on their part, could not forget the pretty 
episode. They urged Miss Walters to make 
some inquiries about the family, and found that 
little Phyllis was suffering from hip disease, and 
had been for a short time in the local hospital. 
Then an idea sprang up amongst the girls. It 
was impossible to say quite where it originated, 
for at least five girls claimed the honor of it, 
but it was neither more nor less than that Chil- 
combe School should raise a subscription and buy 
an adequate carriage for the small invalid. 

“ That terrible box must shake her to pieces, 
poor kid ! ” 

“ It had no springs ! ” 

“ She looked so sweet! ” 

“ But as white as a daisy! ” 

“ Wouldn’t she be proud of a real, proper car- 
riage? ” 

“ Can’t we write off and order one at once? ” 

“ What would it cost? ” 

“ Let’s get up a concert or something for it.” 

“ Oh, yes ! That would be ever such sport ! ” 
Miss Walters, on being appealed to, was cau- 
tious — caution was one of her strong character- 
istics — and would not commit herself to any reply 
until she had consulted the doctor who attended 
the child, the clergyman of the parish, and the 
local schoolmaster. Armed with this accumulated 


The Money-Makers 175 

information, she visited the mother, then gave a 
report of her interview. 

u They’re not well off, but we mustn’t on any 
account pauperize them,” was her verdict. “ Dr. 
Cranley says an invalid carriage would be a great 
boon to the child, but suggests that the parents 
should pay half the expense. They would value 
it far more if they did so, than if it were entirely 
a gift. He knows of a second-hand wicker car- 
riage that could be had cheap. It belongs to 
another patient of his, and he saw it at their house 
only the other day. If you girls can manage to 
raise about £2, 105., the parents would do the rest. 
He was mentioning the subject of a carriage to 
them a short time ago, and they said they could 
afford something, but not the full price. He 
thinks this would settle the matter to everybody’s 
satisfaction.” 

Dr. Cranley’s proposal suited the girls, for 
£2, 105. was a sum that seemed quite feasible to 
collect among themselves. They determined, 
however, to get as much fun out of the business 
as possible. 

“ Don’t let’s have a horrid subscription list! ” 
urged Lilias. “ It’s so unutterably dull just to 
put down your name for half a crown. I hoped 
we were going to give a concert.” 

“ What I vote,” said Gowan, “ is that each 
bedroom should have a show of its own, ask the 


176 The Princess of the School 

others to come as audience, charge admission, 
and wangle the cash that way.” 

“ There’d be some sport in that!” agreed 
Lilias. 

“ It’s great! ” declared Dulcie. 

“ You bet it will catch on ! ” purred Prissie. 

Gowan’s scheme undoubtedly caught on. It 
was so attractive that there was no resisting it. 
Even the occupants of the Gold bedroom, who as 
a rule were not too ready to receive suggestions 
from the Blue Grotto, could not find a single 
fault, and plumped solidly for a dramatic per- 
formance. Each dormitory was to give any enter- 
tainment it chose, and while the Brown room 
decided on Nigger Minstrels, and the Green room 
on a general variety program, the Blue, Gold and 
Rose were keen on acting. Miss Walters, who, 
of course, had to be consulted, not only gave a 
smiling permission, but seemed on the very verge 
of suggesting a personal attendance, then, noticing 
the look of polite agony which swept over the 
faces of the deputation, kindly backed out from 
such an evidently embarrassing proposal, and de- 
clared that she and the mistresses would be too 
busy to come, and must leave the girls to manage 
by themselves. 

“ Thank goodness!” exclaimed Gowan, when 
they were safely out of earshot of the study door. 
“ I never dreamt of such an awful thing as Miss 


The Money-Makers 177 

Walters offering to turn up! Why, we couldn’t 
have had any fun at all ! ” 

“ We’d have had to act Shakespeare, or some- 
thing stilted out of a book! ” shuddered Edith. 

“ I should simply shut up if any of the mis- 
tresses were looking on,” protested Dulcie. 

“ And I should shut down, and crawl under a 
bed, I think,” laughed Noreen. “ I say, I hope 
Miss Walters wasn’t offended. We certainly 
looked very blank when she began asking us the 
price of ‘ stalls.’ I suppose it wasn’t exactly 
what you’d call polite! ” 

“ Perhaps it wasn’t, but it can’t be helped,” 
groaned Gowan. “ It would wreck everything to 
have an audience of mistresses. I feel we’ve 
escaped a great danger. We must warn the 
others not to be too encouraging, or give the 
mistresses any loophole of an excuse to butt in. 
This particular show is to be private and confi- 
dential.” 

It was decided to hold each performance on a 
separate day, during the evening recreation time. 

“Matinees are no good!” decreed Prissie. 
“ Everybody feels perfectly cold in the afternoon. 
It’s impossible to get up any proper enthusiasm 
until the lamps are lighted.” 

“ I feel a perfect stick at 4 p. M.,” admitted 
Carmel. 

“What will you feel later on?” 


178 The Princess of the School 


“ A sort of combination of Mary Pickford and 
Charlie Chaplin thrown together, I hope!” 
twinkled Carmel. “ It depends whether you put 
me on a comic turn or a romantic scene.” 

“ I vote we have a little bit of both,” said 
Gowan. “ We’ll harrow their feelings first, and 
end in comedy.” 

The five bedrooms drew lots for the order of 
their performances, and the honor of “ first 
night ” fell to the Blue Grotto. Its occupants 
(including Carmel, whose dressing-room was con- 
sidered an annex) held a rejoicing committee to 
plan out their play. Squatting on Gowan’s bed, 
they each contributed portions of the plot. 

u Shall we write it out and learn our parts? ” 
asked Lilias. 

“ Certainly not. It would quite spoil it if you 
were just reeling off speeches by heart, with one 
ear open to the prompter. I know you ! I shall 
never forget Lilias when we did ‘The Vanity 
Bag.’ She said her bits as if she were repeating 
a lesson, and Bertha ” 

“ Are we to say anything we like, then? ” inter- 
rupted Carmel, for Gowan’s reminiscences were 
becoming rather too personal for purposes of har- 
mony. 

“ We’ll map the whole thing out beforehand, 
of course, but you must just say what comes into 
your head at the moment. It will be ever so much 


The Money-Makers 179 

fresher and funnier. All you’ve got to do is to 
get into the right spirit and play up ! ” 

“ All serene ! As long as no mistresses are sit- 
ting looking on, I don’t mind.” 

The Blue Grotto, being the first on the list of 
performances, was determined to do the thing in 
style. Bertha and Carmel between them evolved 
a poster. It was painted in sepia on the back of 
one of Dulcie’s school drawings, sacrificed for the 
purpose. It represented the profile of a rather 
pert looking young person with a tip-tilted nose 
and an eye several sizes larger than was con- 
sistent with the usual anatomy of the human 
countenance. Lower down, in somewhat shaky 
lettering, was set forth the following announce- 
ment : 

This they placed temporarily in the passage, 
but when the girls had giggled over it sufficiently 
they removed it, for fear its attractions might 
tempt some of the mistresses into asking permis- 
sion to attend, a fatality which must at all costs 
be avoided. 

The performers spent a hectic day making ar- 
rangements. The time allowed in their dormi- 
tory was necessarily limited, so preparations were 
a scramble. The four beds were moved and 
placed as seats, and one corner of the room was re- 
served as the stage. Carmel’s dressing-room 
made an excellent u green room,” and gave the 


i8o The Princess of the School 



Come to flie blue Cjrotto! 

GRAND DRAMA 


THE COURSE of TRUE LOVE" 


* FEATURING • 

THE SISTERS INCLETON The Cheverley Favourites.. 

SI6N0R1NA CARMEL LESLIE.. , .Tie famous SicitUnCom^’K 

MISS GOWAM BARBOUR The Daisy ofOnkomlc.. 

MISS BERTHA CHESTERS (Our Bert )... . 

Have half an hour cf Fun and Pathos 
It will (to you sjood to lauyh and cry 

SILVER COLLECTION 


The Money-Makers 1 8 1 

Blue Grotto a substantial theatrical lift over other 
dormitories. 

Ten minutes before the hour, five distracted 
actresses were struggling to complete their im- 
promptu toilets. 

“ I’m so rocky, I know I shan’t be able to say 
anything at all ! ” fluttered Dulcie. 

“Nonsense! Pull yourself together, child!” 
urged Gowan. “ Get some stiffening into you, 
can’t you? ” 

“ I’m going to have umpteen dozen fits! ” 

“ You’ve got to reckon with me if you spoil the 
play, so there 1 Don’t be a silly cockchafer ! ” 

“ Are we downhearted? ” twittered Bertha. 

“No!” answered a stalwart chorus of three, 
hauling up Dulcie, who was sitting on a chair 
shivering in the agonies of an acute attack of stage 
fright. 

By this time the audience was trooping in, and 
seating itself upon the beds, and by frantic clap- 
ping clamored for the entertainment to begin. 
Gowan opened the show, and took the stage in 
the character of Miss Monica Morton, an elderly 
spinster. Her make-up was very good, consider- 
ing the limited resources of the company. Some 
cotton wool did service for white hair neatly ar- 
ranged under a boudoir cap; her dress (borrowed 
from Noreen, who was a head taller than Gowan) 
fell to her ankles; she wore spectacles, and 


1 82 The Princess of the School 


wrinkles had been carefully painted across her 
forehead. Bertha, a forward chit of a maidser- 
vant (servants on the stage invariably assume a 
cheekiness of manner that would never be toler- 
ated by any employer in private life), bounced in 
and handed her a letter, and stood making grim- 
aces to the audience while her mistress — very 
foolishly — read its contents aloud. It ran thus : 

“ 1 1 Park Lane, 

“ Mayfair. 

“ Dearest Monica, 

“ We are sending Dorothea down to you by the 
first train in the morning, and we beg you will keep 
a strict eye on her. An individual named Mon- 
tague Ponsonby has been paying her great atten- 
tions, and we wish to break off the attachment. 
He is well born, but absolutely penniless, and as 
Dorothea will some day be an heiress, we do not 
wish her to throw herself away upon him. Please 
do your best to prevent any such folly. 

“ Your affectionate sister, 

“ Elizabeth Strong.” 

Miss Morton, on grasping the drift of this 
epistle, exhibited symptoms of distress. She flung 
out her arms in a dramatic attitude, and confided 
to the audience her disinclination to take over 
the unwelcome task of becoming duenna to her 
niece. There was no other course open to her, 


The Money-Makers 183 

apparently; the idea of sending the girl home by 
the next train, or of hastily packing her own box 
and departing somewhere on urgent business did 
not seem to occur to her. She grumbled, but 
accepted the responsibility, and Jemima, the pert 
maidservant, made faces behind her back, till sum- 
moned by a violent knocking, when she flew to 
the door and admitted Dorothea, with bag and 
baggage. 

Lilias, as the fashionable niece, was “ got up 
regardless.” Her hair was done in a Grecian 
knot, a veil was twisted round her picture hat, and 
she sailed into the room with the assurance of a 
Society beauty. 

Aunt Monica, suppressing the letter of warn- 
ing, gave the customary greetings, then — with 
the imprudence characteristic of a stage aunt — 
announced her intention of going out to do shop- 
ping while her niece unpacked her possessions. 

Instead of doing anything so sensible as to un- 
pack, Dorothea sank into a chair, and in an atti- 
tude of great languor and despair confided her 
love affairs to the sympathetic and interested ser- 
vant, who swore fealty and offered all possible as- 
sistance. Her kind intentions were put at once to 
the test, for immediately another violent knocking 
was heard, she flung open the door, and after a 
whispered colloquy announced “ Mr. Montague 
Ponsonby.” 


1 84 The Princess of the School 


The entrance of Carmel, as hero of the drama, 
created quite a sensation. Materials for mascu- 
line attire were scanty at Chilcombe Hall, and, as 
the girls felt rather mean for not having invited 
the mistresses to their performance, they had 
not dared to ask for the loan of any theatrical 
properties, and had been obliged to concoct cos- 
tumes from anything that came to hand. Carmel 
had put her feet through the sleeves of her brown 
knitted jumper, and drawn it up so that the cuffs 
fitted just below her knees, and made a really 
striking resemblance to a pair of gentleman’s 
sporting breeches. A coat covered any defici- 
encies at the waist, a paper collar and a scarlet 
tie encircled her throat, india-rubber waders did 
service for top-boots, her hair was tucked under a 
felt hat (with the trimming wrenched off), and 
last, but not least, her lip was adorned with the 
black mustache which Prissie had used on Hal- 
lowe’en. She looked such a magnificent and 
sporting object, that it was no wonder the fashion- 
able Dorothea fell into her arms. 

It is perhaps unusual for a gentleman to con- 
duct his love-making with his hat on, but the audi- 
ence was not “ viper-critical ” and allowed some 
latitude to Mr. Montague Ponsonby. They ad- 
mired the ardor with which he pressed his suit, 
the fervor of his protestations of fidelity, the 
dramatic roll of his dark eyes, and the tender tone 


The Money-Makers 185 

of his voice. His entrance was considered a very 
brisk bit of acting, and when he paused for breath, 
in a graceful stage attitude, sixteen pairs of hands 
gave a hearty clap. 

The lovers, possibly a little sated with the 
ecstacies of their affection, turned to the sordid 
details of life, and sitting hand in hand upon the 
sofa (improvised out of four bedroom chairs and 
an eiderdown) planned an immediate elopement. 
They had decided to hire a car and make for 
Scotland, and were discussing which hotel to stay 
at, and what they should order for dinner, when 
the inevitable happened. The pert maidservant 
rushed in, and in a voice squeaky with tragedy, 
warned them of the immediate approach of Miss 
Monica Morton. 

Of course, they ought to have expected it. No- 
body except two utter idiots would have sat phi- 
landering upon the sofa in what might be termed 
“ the lion’s den,” knowing that u the lion ” might 
at any moment walk in with her shopping-basket 
and catch them. The surprise and horror de- 
picted on their countenances would have com- 
manded a good salary at a cinema studio. Mr. 
Montague Ponsonby was for bluffing it, but 
Dorothea’s astute female brains seized a readier 
way out of the situation. She laid her lover flat 
upon the sofa, and covered him hastily with her 
traveling rug, then, opening her suitcase, flung 


1 86 The Princess of the School 

its contents on the floor, and knelt down in the 
midst of a muddle of shoes, night-dresses, and 
other paraphernalia. 

Aunt Monica exhibited a natural amazement at 
finding her niece conducting her unpacking in the 
sitting-room, instead of upstairs, but accepted her 
explanations with wonderful indulgence. She pro- 
fessed herself tired with shopping, and moved to- 
wards the sofa to rest. 

Dorothea, with sudden solicitude, sprang up to 
offer her a chair, and made every human effort to 
lead her away from the couch. She was a per- 
sistent, not to say obstinate, old lady, however, 
and she meant to have her own way in her own 
house. Waving her niece aside, and proclaiming 
her weariness, she sank down heavily upon the 
sofa. The result was tragic, for a stifled groan 
resounded through the room, and the top-boots 
of the luckless Montague Ponsonby kicked wildly 
in the air. Miss Morton, naturally alarmed, and 
instantly jumping to the conclusion that he was a 
burglar, screamed loudly for assistance, and a 
passing policeman hastened to her call. 

It is wonderful how efficient and handy the 
police always are on the stage. They are invari- 
ably at the right place at the right moment, and 
always step in just in time to stop a murder, pre- 
vent an explosion, or rescue the heroine. Dulcie, 
who in a long blue coat, with a paper helmet and 


The Money-Makers 187 

a strap under her chin, represented the majesty of 
the law, hauled the squirming Montague from the 
couch, and secured his wrists tightly with a piece 
of clothes line supplied by the pert servant, who 
ought to have been ashamed of herself for going 
back on her promise to help the lovers, but prob- 
ably felt a deeper obligation to the policeman, 
who was, no doubt, her sweetheart, which ac- 
counted for his very convenient presence on the 
doorstep. 

“ I arrest you in the King’s name! ” declared 
that officer, when the clothes line was sufficiently 
knotted, and Montague had ceased struggling. 
“ You will be brought up on trial before the court, 
and charged with housebreaking and resisting the 
police.” 

It was only then that the wretched man began 
to protest his innocence, and that Dorothea, fall- 
ing on her knees, explained his name, errand, and 
intentions, and entreated her aunt to overlook the 
matter. 

Miss Morton wavered visibly. It was evident 
that her natural kindness of heart gave her a bias 
towards the lovers — she had, perhaps, been 
through an affair of the same sort herself in her 
youth — yet on the other hand her duty to her 
sister urged her to take stern measures. She drew 
the letter from her pocket with the seeming inten- 
tion of strengthening her resolution against the 


x 8 8 The Princess of the School 


hopes of Montague, and was shaking her head 
sadly over it, when the obstreperous servant, 
who had rushed for no apparent reason, except 
habit, to the door, bounded back, waving a yellow 
envelope. A well-trained maid usually presents 
a telegram upon a tray, but Miss Morton must 
have been accustomed to Jemima’s rough ways, 
or was too agitated to rebuke her; she tore open 
the missive, glanced at its contents, and with a 
scream of joy sank fainting into her domestic’s 
faithful arms. 

Of course, somebody had to read the telegram 
aloud. The policeman seemed to think it was his 
business. He picked it up, and proclaimed it in 
the manner of a town crier. It was short, but 
much to the point. 

“ Please encourage Montague Ponsonby. 
Uncle has died and left him vast fortune. 

“ Elizabeth. ” 

Everybody recovered at the good news. Miss 
Morton rose from the arms of Jemima, apolo- 
gized to Mr. Ponsonby for having mistaken him 
for a burglar, and invited him to stay to lunch. 
He begged her not to mention the matter, and as 
soon as his wrists had been released by the police- 
man, he shook hands cordially with his prospective 
aunt, and made a pretty speech expressing his 
desire to become a member of the family. 


The Money-Makers 189 

This was undoubtedly the moment for the cur- 
tain to descend, but as that most useful of stage 
adjuncts was conspicuous by its absence, the actors 
lined up instead, and made their parting bows 
with much eclat, Dorothea leaning elegantly upon 
her lover’s shoulder, Aunt Monica holding aloft 
the telegram, the policeman saluting, and the 
maidservant blowing kisses. 

The applause was so thunderous that the per- 
formers were obliged to beg the audience to use 
self-restraint and limit the noise, for fear one of 
the mistresses should feel in duty bound to pay a 
surprise visit, and be scandalized at the costumes. 
Moreover, a clanging bell warned them that the 
recreation hour was over, so there was a hasty 
exit and a quick change into normal garments. 
Miss Hardy was kind that evening, and turned a 
blind eye to deficiencies of order. She was seen 
surreptitiously reading the program, and it was 
the general opinion in the dormitory that she and 
the other mistresses were much disappointed at 
having been excluded from the entertainment. 

“ It did seem rather mean not to ask them,” 
said Gowan, self-reproachfully, “ though they’d 
have spoilt the whole show. I vote we give 
another some time — a prunes and prism affair 
without any lovers in it — and let them all come.” 

u Right you are ! But it will be a tame business 
after this! ” agreed Bertha. 


CHAPTER XIV 


All in a Mist 

The Blue Grotto entertainment was very suc- 
cessfully emulated by the occupants of the Gold, 
Green, Rose, and Brown bedrooms, and quite a 
sufficient sum of money was raised in the various 
collections to pay half the expense of the little 
wicker carriage for the invalid child. The 
school took a special walk one day to Five Stone 
Bridge, to see her take an airing in her new 
chariot, and though they agreed that it did not 
look nearly so picturesque as the wooden box, it 
was undoubtedly far more comfortable, and more 
suitable for one suffering from her complaint. 
She smiled shyly at the long line of girls, whis- 
pered a bashful “ Thank you ” for the chocolates 
they gave her, and appeared scared to the verge 
of tears when they spoke to her. 

“ I don’t blame her, poor kid! ” said Gowan, 
as the school marched on, slightly disappointed. 
“ I shouldn’t like to be made a show of myself, 
and be stared at by everybody. She looked as if 
she wished us far enough. Never mind! She’ll 

190 


All in a Mist 


191 

eat the chocs, and enjoy herself now we’ve gone. 
She’s rather a sweet little morsel, isn’t she, after 
all?” 

Christmas was drawing near, and the school 
turned from schemes of general philanthropy to 
the more pressing business of making presents for 
immediate relatives and friends. Various pieces 
of sewing, which had languished all the term, 
were taken out and worked at feverishly; there 
was quite an epidemic of needlecraft, and a wet 
day was almost welcomed as affording an oppor- 
tunity for getting on with the gifts. Everybody 
seemed suddenly in need of embroidery silks, 
transfers, beads, wools, crochet needles, and other 
such articles, and a special deputation waited on 
Miss Walters asking permission to go a shopping 
expedition to Glazebrook to purchase these indis- 
pensables. Miss Walters, who always had an eye 
to school discipline, made the matter a question 
of marks, and granted the privilege only to those 
whose exercise books showed a certain standard 
of proficiency. Hester, Ida, Noreen, Joyce, 
Bertha, Carmel, and Doris were the only ones 
who reached the required totals, so under charge 
of Miss Herbert they were sent off one afternoon 
to the town, armed with a long list of commis- 
sions from the luckless ones who remained behind. 

Chilcombe Hall was four and a half miles from 
Glazebrook, and there was no motor omnibus 


192 The Princess of the School 

service. It was arranged, therefore, for the party 
to walk on the outward journey, and to return 
with all their parcels in a couple of taxicabs. 
They started after an extremely early lunch, in 
order to do the important business of matching 
embroidery silks by daylight. It had been quite a 
fine sunny morning, but clouded over at noon, and 
although no rain fell the sky was gray and cheer- 
less. 

The girls did not much mind the condition of 
the weather so long as they could see to make their 
purchases. They spent a considerable time in 
the principal fancy-work shop of the town, and 
tried the patience of the assistants by demanding 
articles that were quite unobtainable. A visit to a 
stationer’s and a confectioner’s almost completed 
their list of requirements, and only a few extras 
remained to be bought. Some of the party were 
standing in the entrance of a big general store, 
waiting while Miss Herbert executed commissions 
for Miss Walters, when Joyce was suddenly 
greeted by a friend, a lady who was just about to 
step into her motor. 

“ Why, Joyce!” she exclaimed. “Have you 
been shopping here? So have I — look at my 
pile of parcels! Have you finished? Are you 
going straight back to school? I shall pass Chil- 
combe on my way home, and can take you in the 
car if you like, and some of your schoolfellows 


All in a Mist 


193 

too. There’s room for four if you don’t mind 
squeezing ! ” 

It seemed much too good an offer to be refused. 
Joyce suggested, indeed, that she ought to consult 
Miss Herbert, who was in an upper department 
of the shop, but Mrs. Baldwin declared she could 
not wait. 

“ I don’t see that Miss Herbert can mind. 
We’re quite ready to go, and it will save one 
taxi,” urged Bertha. 

So it was hastily decided for Joyce, Bertha, 
Doris, and Carmel to go in the car, and Noreen 
ran upstairs to tell Miss Herbert of the arrange- 
ment. The latter, with Hester and Ida, was 
choosing lamp-shades and fancy candlesticks. It 
was only when Noreen had gone that Carmel re- 
membered suddenly that she had never bought the 
packet of chocolates which she had promised to 
bring back for Dulcie. She stopped with her foot 
on the step of the car, and excused herself. 

“There’s something I still have to do!” she 
explained. “ I must come back in the taxi with 
the others after all! I’m so sorry! ” 

Mrs. Baldwin had an appointment at home, and 
was impatient to start, so the door was slammed 
on Joyce, Bertha, and Doris, and they drove away 
all smiles, and waving a good-by through the 
window. There was a sweets department close 
at hand in the Stores, and Carmel bought a pres- 


194 The Princess of the School 

ent of chocolate for Dulcie and of butterscotch 
for Lilias, then went upstairs to the lamp-shade 
counter to rejoin Miss Herbert and the other 
girls. To her surprise she found they had gone. 
She searched for them all round the upper story 
of the shop, but did not see them anywhere. She 
had kept a watchful eye on the stairs when buying 
the sweets, and was quite sure that they had not 
passed down while she was there. She returned 
to the lamp-shade counter and questioned the as- 
sistant, who told her that she had noticed the lady 
and the three girls in school hats walk down 
another staircase which led to a side door of the 
stores. In much alarm, Carmel hurried that way 
into the street, but not a trace of them was to be 
seen. She walked as far as the railway station, 
hoping to catch them there engaging a taxi, but 
not a solitary conveyance of any description was 
on the stand. She was indeed in a fix. She saw 
clearly that, of course, they all supposed she had 
gone with Mrs. Baldwin in the car, and by this 
time they were probably on the road to Chilcombe 
without her. It was nobody’s fault but her own. 

The feeling that she had only herself to blame 
did not make the situation any less unpleasant. 
She was four and a half miles away from school, 
and unless she could secure a taxi, she would be 
obliged to walk back. She inquired from a 
porter, but he shook his head, and said it was 


All in a Mist 


195 

unlikely there would be any cabs at the station till 
the express came in at six o’clock. 

Carmel thanked him, and turned away with her 
eyes full of tears. Owing to her Sicilian educa- 
tion she was not accustomed to going about by 
herself. England was still more or less of a 
strange country to her, and she did not know the 
ways of the land. Lilias, in her place, would have 
gone to the principal hotel, explained who she was, 
and asked the manager to find some sort of car- 
riage to convey her back to school. Such a course 
never occurred to Carmel, however; instead, she 
tied her numerous parcels together, blinked back 
• her tears, set her teeth, and started forth to walk. 

Fortunately, there was no mistaking the high 
road, and it was still comparatively early. If she 
put her best foot foremost she might reasonably 
expect to reach Chilcombe before dark. She had 
soon left the houses of Glazebrook behind, and 
was passing between hedges and fields. For the 
first mile and a half all went well; she was a little 
tired, but rather pleased with her own pluck. Ac- 
cording to Sicilian customs, which are almost east- 
ern in their guardianship of signorinas, it was an 
unheard-of thing for a young lady in her position 
to take a country walk without an escort. The 
remembrance of the beggars and footpads that 
lurked about Sicilian roads gave her uneasy 
twinges, and though she had been told of the com- 


19 6 The Princess of the School 


parative safety of British highways, her heart beat 
considerably when she passed anybody, and she 
scurried along in a flutter lest some ill-intentioned 
person should stop and speak to her. The 
farther she went from the town the fewer people 
were on the road, and for quite half a mile she 
had met nobody at all. She had been going 
steadily down a steep hill, and at the bottom she 
stepped suddenly into a great belt of fog that 
lay like a white wall in front of her. It was as 
if she had passed into a country of dreams. She 
could scarcely see the hedges, and all round was 
a dense mass of mist, clammy and cold and diffi- 
cut to breathe. It was silent, too, for no sound 
seemed to travel through it, not a bird twittered, 
and no animal stirred in the fields. Carmel felt 
as utterly alone as if she were on the surface of 
the moon. All the familiar objects of the land- 
scape were blotted out. It was still light, but this 
white thick mist was worse than darkness. She 
stamped along for the sake of hearing her own 
footsteps. She wished she had a dog with her. 
She kept to the left-hand side of the road, and fol- 
lowed the hedge, hoping that the fog was only in 
the valley, and that she would soon pass out of it. 
On and on it stretched, however, till she must 
have been walking through it for quite twenty 
minutes. Then she began to grow uneasy. 
There was a border of grass under the hedge 


All in a Mist 


197 


bank wider than she remembered noticing on the 
road, and the suspicion assailed her that all un- 
knowingly she must have turned down a side lane 
and have lost her way. 

She went forward now with doubting footsteps. 
Where was the path leading her? If she could 
only find some cottage, she could inquire. But 
there was no human habitation, nothing but the 
endless hedges and an occasional gate into a field. 
What was that in front of her? She stopped, 
and drew back with a cry of fear. Across her 
track gleamed water. She had almost stepped 
into it. Whether it was stream, pond, or river 
the thick mist did not reveal, but it certainly 
barred her footpath. She shivered, and turning 
round, walked back in the direction from which 
she had come, hoping to regain the high road. 

Then a wonderful atmospheric effect was dis- 
played. A breeze sprang up and blew aside some 
of the fog, and the rising moon shone down on a 
land of white shadows. It was impossible to tell 
what was real and what was unreal. On the other 
side of the lane stretched what appeared to be a 
vast lake, but might only be mist on the meadows; 
cloud-like masses shaped themselves into spectral 
forms and rolled away into the dim and nebulous 
distance, where they settled into weird domes and 
towers and walls, a veritable elf king’s castle. It 
was so uncanny and silent and strange that Carmel 


198 The Princess of the School 

was far more frightened than she had felt before. 
Old fairy tales of her childhood crowded into her 
mind, memories of phantoms and ghosts and gob- 
lins, the legends of Undine and the water sprites, 
the ballad of the Erl-King in the haunted forest. 
She had learnt the poem once, and she found her- 
self repeating the words : 

“ ‘ Why trembles my darling? Why shrinks he with 
fear? ’ 

‘ Oh Father, my Father! the Erl-King is near! 

The Erl-King with his crown and his beard long and 
white ! ’ 

‘ Oh! your eyes are deceived by the vapours of night! ’ 

“ ‘ 1 love thee, I dote on thy face so divine ! 

I must and will have thee, and force makes thee mine ! ’ 
* My Father! My Father! Oh hold me now fast! 

He pulls me, he hurts, and will have me at last ! * ” 

And as if that were not bad enough, the ballad 
of Lenore recurred to her: 

“ How swift the flood, the mead, the wood, 
Aright, aleft are gone! 

The bridges thunder as they pass, 

But earthly sound is none. 

“ Tramp, tramp, across the land they speed, 

Splash, splash, across the sea; 

1 Hurrah ! the dead can ride apace, 

Dost fear to ride with me?’” 


All in a Mist 


199 


By this time Carmel, alone among the magic 
mist and moonlight, had reached a state of fear 
bordering on panic. She longed for anything 
human, and would have embraced a cow if she had 
met one. Through the fog in front of her sud- 
denly loomed something dark, and the sound of 
horse’s hoofs rang on the road. A wild vision 
of Lenore’s spectral bridegroom presented itself 
to her overwrought imagination, and she shrieked 
in genuine terror, and shrank trembling against 
the hedge. The rider of the horse dismounted, 
and slipping his wrist through the bridle, came to- 
wards her. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Are you 
hurt? Why, great Scott! It’s never Carmel! ” 
“ Everard! Everard! ” gasped Carmel, cling- 
ing desperately to his arm. “ Oh ! Thank Hea- 
ven it’s you! I’m lost!” 

Everard comforted her for a while without ask- 
ing any questions; then, when she had recovered 
calmness, he naturally wished to know why his 
pretty cousin was wandering in the country lanes 
by herself on a winter’s evening. Man-like, he 
blamed the school instead of Carmel. 

“ They ought to have taken better care of 
you ! ” he murmured. “ Why didn’t the mistress 
hold a roll-call, and count you all? ” 

“ It wasn’t her fault. It was my own mis- 
take!” 


200 


The Princess of the School 


“ Well, whoever’s fault it was, the fact re- 
mains the same. You’d better get on Rajah, and 
I’ll take you back to Chilcombe.” 

“ Oh! that would be lovely. I’m so tired.” 

Perched on Rajah’s back, with Everard walk- 
ing by her side, life seemed a very different affair 
from what it had been five minutes before. 
Carmel enjoyed the ride, and was almost sorry 
when they reached the great iron gates of the 
Hall. 

“ Won’t you come in and see Lilias and Dul- 
cie?” she asked, as Everard helped her to dis- 
mount at the door. 

“ I haven’t time to-night. I must get home in 
a hurry. I’ve an appointment with Mr. Bowden, 
and he’ll be waiting for me.” 

“ And I’ve kept you from it ! Oh, I’m so sorry, 
Everard! ” 

“ I’m not. Look here, if you’re ever in any 
trouble again anywhere, you come to me, and I’ll 
take care of you. Don’t forget that, will you? ” 

“ I’ll remember!” said Carmel, waving her 
hand to him as she watched him ride away down 
the drive. Then she turned into the house to 
set at rest the panic of anxiety which had arisen 
over her non-appearance with the other members 
of the shopping party. 


CHAPTER XV 


On the High Seas 

There was quite a merry gathering at Cheverley 
Chase that Christmas. All the Ingleton children 
were at home, and with Cousin Clare and Mr. 
Stacey, they made a jolly party of nine, a satis- 
factory number, large enough to act charades, play 
round games, and even to dance in the evenings 
if they felt inclined. Without exception every- 
body voted Mr. Stacey “ an absolute sport.” He 
seemed to know a little about everything, and 
could help Bevis to arrange his stamp collection, 
or Clifford his moths and butterflies; he could 
name Roland’s fossils, give Dulcie tips for the 
development of her photos, and teach Lilias to 
use the typewriter. He was so cheery and good- 
tempered over it, too, and so amusing, and full 
of fun and jokes, that the young Ingletons buzzed 
round him like flies round a honey-pot. There 
are some people in the world whose mental atmos- 
phere appears to act like genial sunshine. Be- 
cause their uplifting personality demands the best 
in others’ natures, the best is offered to them. 
201 


202 


The Princess of the School 


Mr. Stacey’s lovable, joyous, enthusiastic tempera- 
ment made a wonderful difference at Cheverley 
Chase. The constant squabbles and rivalries that 
had been wont to crop up seemed to melt away in 
his presence. Never had there been such har- 
monious holidays, or such pleasant ones. It was 
his idea to take advantage of a brief frost and 
flood the lawn, so that the family could enjoy 
skating there, though the ponds in the neighbor- 
hood were still unsafe. It was Carmel’s first 
experience of ice, and she struggled along, held 
up by her cousins, feeling very helpless at first, 
but gradually learning to make her strokes, and 
enjoying herself immensely. Then there was 
scouting in the woods, and there were various ex- 
peditions to hunt for fossils in road heaps and 
quarries, or to explore hitherto unvisited parts 
of the district. There was no doubt that Mr. 
Stacey had a born knack with young folks, and as 
a leader of Christmas fun he was quite unrivaled. 

Among the changes for the better at Cheverley 
Chase there was perhaps none so great as the 
marked difference in Everard. Nobody could fail 
to notice it. Mr. Bowden considered that the six 
months spent as a chauffeur had “ knocked the 
nonsense out of the lad, and done him a world of 
good.” Cousin Clare said he had grown up, and 
the younger boys, while not exactly analyzing the 


On the High Seas 203 

altered attitude, admitted that their eldest brother 
was “ a good sort ” these holidays. 

“ Everard always so loved to be ‘ top dog ’ be- 
fore,” Dulcie confided to Lilias. u I used to hate 
the way he bossed us all and arranged everything. 
He’s far nicer now he doesn’t pose as ‘ the young 
squire.’ Even when he used to tell us what he’d 
do for us when he owned the estate, it was in 
such a grand patronizing manner that it made me 
feel all bristles. I didn’t want to be helped like 
that!” 

“ He is indeed very different! ” agreed Lilias 
thoughtfully. 

The only person who did not notice any change 
in Everard was Carmel, but she had never known 
him in the old days, so fixed him at the standard 
at which she had found him. The two were ex- 
cellent friends. Under her cousin’s teaching, 
Carmel learnt much of English country life; she 
had the makings of a plucky little horsewoman, 
and could soon take a fence and ride to hounds. 
She was very much interested in the gamekeeper’s 
reports, in various experiments in forestry that 
were being tried, and in motor plows and other 
up-to-date agricultural implements that she saw 
in use on the farms. 

“ It’s all different from Sicily,” she said one 
day. 


204 The Princess of the School 

“ Yes. You see I’m training you to play your 
part as an English landowner,” replied Everard. 
“You ought to know something about your es- 
tate.” 

Carmel shook her head emphatically. 

“ Don’t call it my estate, please ! Eve told you 
again and again that I don’t mean to take it from 
you. How could a girl like I am manage it prop- 
erly? You know all about it, and I don’t. Peo- 
ple can’t be made to take things they don’t want. 
As soon as I’m twenty-one, I shall hand it straight 
over to you. I’d like to see you master of the 
Chase ! ” 

It was Everard’s turn to shake his head. 

“ That can never be, Carmel ! Please let us 
consider that matter perfectly settled, and don’t 
let us open the question again. It’s an utter im- 
possibility for me ever to be master of the Chase. 
That’s final! I may have my faults, but I’m not 
a sneak or a fortune-hunter.” 

“ You’re not cross with me, Everard? ” Carmel 
was looking at him anxiously. 

u No, dear, but you’re such a child ! You can’t 
understand things properly yet. You will when 
you’re older.” 

“ Then what are you going to do, Everard, 
after you leave college?” 

“ Study for the Bar, I hope. It’s the kind of 
career that would suit me, I think.” 


205 


On the High Seas 

Carmel’s dark eyes shone. 

“ Then I shall come to court, and hear you 
plead a case ! And when you get into Parliament 
— oh yes! you are going to get into Parliament, I 
know you are ! — I shall sit in the Ladies’ Gallery 
and listen to your first speech. If you won’t be 
Squire of Cheverley, you must become famous in 
some other way ! In Sicily we think a tremendous 
amount about being the head of the family. 
You’ll be the head of the Ingletons, and you’ve 
got to make a name for the sake of the others.” 

“ I know I ought to take my father’s place to 
the younger ones,” answered Everard gravely. 
“ I’ll do what I can in that line, though I’m not 
much to boast of myself, I’m afraid. I’m not 
the good sort you think me, Carmel. But there, 
you little witch, you’ve cast your glamour over 
me, somehow ! I suppose I’ve got to try to be all 
you want me. Princess Carmel gives her orders 
here, it seems ! ” 

“ Yes, and in things like this she expects to be 
obeyed!” laughed Carmel. “I told you once 
before that you hadn’t got the same shape of fore- 
head as the Emperor Augustus for nothing! ” 

It was after the girls had returned to school, 
during some bitter weather at the end of January, 
that Lilias caught a severe cold, and was kept in 
bed. Dr. Martin, sent for from Glazebrook, 
took a serious view of the case, and asked to 


2 o 6 The Princess of the School 


consult with Dr. Hill of Balderton, the family 
physician at Cheverley Chase. They sounded the 
patient’s chest, examined the temperature charts 
kept by Miss Walters, and decided that the cli- 
mate of Chilcombe was too damp for her at pres- 
ent, and that she would benefit by spending the 
trying spring months in a warmer and drier atmos- 
phere. The result of this ultimatum was a large 
amount of writing and telegraphing between Eng- 
land and Sicily, several confabulations among Mr. 
Bowden, Cousin Clare, Mr. Stacey, and Miss 
Walters, and then the remarkable and delightful 
announcement that the invalid, escorted by a de- 
tachment of her family, was to be taken to Casa 
Bianca at Montalesso on a visit to Mr. and Mrs. 
Greville. 

It was, of course, Carmel who had engineered 
the whole business. 

“ It’s nearly a year since I left home,” she ex- 
plained, “ so it’s time they let me go and see them. 
I couldn’t take Lilias without Dulcie, it wouldn’t 
be kind, and even Miss Walters saw that, though 
she held out at first. Then Everard has been 
working very hard, and needs a change, but, if 
Mr. Stacey goes with us, they can use Daddy’s 
gun-room for a study, and read for three or four 
hours every morning. And Cousin Clare must 
come too, to take care of us all; we couldn’t leave 


207 


On the High Seas 

her behind. Mother loved her when she came 
over to fetch me last year. I don’t believe she’d 
have let anybody else take me away. Oh, how I 
want to show Sicily to you all! Won’t we have 
absolutely the time of our lives? To think of 
going home and taking you with me! ” 

It was wonderful how Princess Carmel seemed 
to manage to get her own way. Mr. Bowden and 
Miss Walters, who were the natural obstacles to 
the plan, yielded quite amicably after only a short 
opposition. Cousin Clare had encouraged the 
scheme from the first, and Mr. Stacey and Ev- 
erard were all enthusiasm. 

“ You’ll need us men to look after the lug- 
gage,” declared Everard, oblivious of the fact that 
Cousin Clare had successfully piloted Carmel and 
her boxes across the continent without any mascu- 
line assistance, and was quite capable of traveling 
round the world on her own account. 

As Mr. Greville was one of the directors of a 
line of Mediterranean steamers running from Liv- 
erpool to Alexandria, it was decided that the party 
should book passages in the Clytie ) and go by sea 
as far as Malta, crossing from there in a local 
vessel to Sicily. The doctors thought that a sea 
voyage would be better for Lilias than a long 
tiring train journey across France and Italy, and 
as it was a novel experience, the idea was attrac- 


2o 8 The Princess of the School 


tive to most of the party. Fortunately they were 
able to engage the accommodation they needed, 
and set out without further loss of time. 

I will not describe the journey to Liverpool, or 
the wearisome drive through drab streets and 
along miles of docks till they reached the Clytie. 
She was a steamer of about 6,000 tons, and, con- 
sidering the crowded condition of all sea traffic 
at the time, they might think themselves very 
lucky to be able to secure cabins without waiting 
months for the privilege. It was indeed only 
owing to Mr. Greville’s influence that they had 
been able to do so. With much curiosity they 
looked round the floating castle which was to be 
their home for perhaps a fortnight. All seemed 
new and strange to their wondering eyes — the 
dining-saloon, with its long table and fixed, crim- 
son plush-covered chairs, that swivelled round like 
music-stools to allow their owners to sit down on 
them; the small saloon, with mirrors, piano, and 
books, specially reserved for the ladies instead of 
a drawing-room; the smoke-room for the gentle- 
men, and the steward’s pantry. The cramped 
sleeping accommodation rather appalled the girls, 
though Cousin Clare, who was a seasoned tra- 
veler, assured them it was far more roomy than 
that given on many other vessels. As a matter 
of fact, the captain had turned out of his own cabin 
for them, and was sleeping next to the chart- 


209 


On the High Seas 

house on the bridge, so that at any rate they had 
the best accommodation which the Clytie afforded. 
Four berths in a space about nine feet square cer- 
tainly does not allow much elbow room; the girls 
planned to go to bed in relays, and wondered how 
they could possibly have managed in the still 
smaller quarters at which Cousin Clare had 
hinted. Neatness and order seemed an absolute 
essential. There was no place except their berths 
on which to lay anything down, and their pos- 
sessions had to remain inside their cabin trunks. 
Each had brought a linen case with pockets, and 
tacked it on to the wall beside her berth, to hold 
hairbrush, comb, handkerchiefs, and a few other 
immediate necessities, but when anything else was 
wanted, the trunks must be pulled from under the 
bunks and their contents turned over. 

They had hardly arranged their luggage in 
their cabin, when Everard came in to tell them 
that the vessel was getting under way, and they 
all rushed on deck to witness the start. Out 
from the dock they steamed into the wide estuary 
of the Mersey, where ships of many nations might 
be seen, and the pale February sunshine was 
gleaming upon the gray tidal waters that lay in 
front, and on the roofs and chimneys of the great 
city they were leaving behind. 

“ I can understand emigrants feeling it a wrench 
to say good-by to England! ” said Dulcie, lean- 


2io The Princess of the School 

ing on the rail and fluttering her handkerchief as 
a parting tribute to her country. “ I’d be sorry 
if I were never coming back any more ! Home’s 
home ! ” 

“ Yes, and Sicily is mine! ” said Carmel with 
shining eyes. “ I can’t forget that every day is 
taking me nearer to Mother! Only a fortnight 
more, and we shall be at Casa Bianca ! How I 
hope we shall have a smooth voyage, and per- 
haps we shall get there even sooner. Now we 
have once started off, I feel as if I can’t wait! I 
didn’t know till to-day that I was so homesick! ” 

The first twenty-four hours on board the Clytie 
passed very successfully. The Ingletons dined, 
spent an evening in the saloon, made the acquaint- 
ance of other passengers, and next morning 
amused themselves with deck games. They be- 
gan to congratulate the captain on the calmness 
of the passage, but he laughed and told them not 
to count up their blessings too soon. 

“ In February we may expect anything in the 
way of weather,” he remarked. 

And he was right. Directly they entered the 
Bay of Biscay they encountered a storm. At first 
the girls thought it rather fun to feel the vessel 
heaving its way through the water, to have to 
hold on to the chairs as they crossed the saloon, 
and to be nearly jerked off the stairs when they 
went on deck. But as evening came on, one by 


2 1 1 


On the High Seas 

one they began to feel the effects of mal de mer } 
and long before the dinner-gong sounded had re- 
tired thankfully to their berths. The time that 
followed was an absolute nightmare. The heavy 
seas dashed the Clytie about like a match-box. 
She pitched and tossed, and rolled, so that one 
moment the girls, lying on their backs, would 
find their heels higher than their heads, and the 
next instant the position would be reversed. The 
violence of the rolling almost flung them out on 
to the floor, and they were obliged to cling to 
the wooden edges of their berths. All their pos- 
sessions were rolling about the cabin, the linen 
tidies had tumbled down, and hairbrushes, shoes, 
sponges, clothing, and trunks spun round and 
round in confusion. The noise was terrific, the 
wind blew a hurricane, and great waves broke 
over the deck with tremendous force. To add to 
the danger, the cargo in the hold shifted, and an 
enormous fly-wheel, which, with some other ma- 
chinery was being taken to Alexandria, broke loose 
from the chains that held it, and dashed about 
smashing all with which it came in contact. 

Even when morning dawned, the storm did not 
abate. The girls heard afterwards that the men 
on the look-out were obliged to be lashed to the 
rail with ropes, that the captain never left the 
bridge for twenty-four hours, and that the hatches 
had been battened down to prevent any passen- 


2i2 The Princess of the School 


gers from venturing on deck. At the time they 
were far too ill to care about any such details; 
Lilias and Dulcie would thankfully have gone to 
the bottom, and though Carmel and Cousin Clare 
were more cheerful, the physical discomfort 
troubled them decidedly more than the danger. 
The stewardess, who, poor woman, was herself 
ill, managed to struggle into their cabin, and hold- 
ing on tightly to the berths, would pass them 
drinks of tea in cups that could only be filled a 
quarter full for fear of spilling. 

All through that horrible day they lay still, for 
the violence of the storm made it quite impossible 
to get up and dress. Towards evening, Carmel, 
who began to feel better, turned to thoughts of 
food, and after nibbling a biscuit, begged for 
something more. Now, when the Clytie was 
pitching and tossing and generally misbehaving 
herself, it was manifestly impossible to sit up and 
wield a knife and fork, for the whole contents of 
the plate would be whirled away at the next sud- 
den lurch. The stewardess did her best, how- 
ever, by bringing potatoes baked in their skins, 
and pears, at both of which delicacies it was pos- 
sible to nibble while still lying flat, and holding 
with one hand to the side of the berth. The 
humor of the situation appealed to Carmel so 
much that she burst out laughing, and then Cousin 
Clare, and even Lilias and Dulcie laughed, and 


213 


On the High Seas 

were persuaded each to try a potato, too. They 
snatched intervals of sleep during the night, and 
woke much refreshed. 

Morning found the Clytie off the coast of Por- 
tugal, and in comparatively calm waters. Feel- 
ing very shaky, the Ingletons managed to dress, 
and tottered on deck. Everard and Mr. Stacey, 
both looking pale, though they assured every one 
that they were all right, found comfortable chairs 
for the ladies, and tucked them up snugly with 
rugs. After the long hours in the stuffy cabin it 
was delightful to sit in the sunshine and watch 
the gray, racing water. Here and there in the 
distance could occasionally be seen the funnels 
of far-away steamers, and then there was much 
excitement and focussing of opera-glasses and tele- 
scopes. They wondered if other vessels had been 
caught in the same storm, and how they had fared, 
and Dulcie even hoped they might encounter a 
wreck, and have the privilege of rescuing pas- 
sengers from open boats. She was quite disap- 
pointed when nothing so romantic happened. 

It was interesting to go down to lunch in the 
saloon, and find the “ fiddles ” still on the table — 
long racks with holes in which the dishes and 
plates exactly fit, so that they cannot be shaken 
about. There was naturally much conversation 
among the passengers in relation to the storm, 
and it was passed round the table as a joke that 


214 


The Princess of the School 


the captain himself had been seasick, though he 
would not for a moment admit that he was capable 
of such a landlubber’s weakness. 

“ If I had known what it was going to be like, 
I would never have come by sea ! ” declared Lilias, 
whose symptoms had been more acute than those 
of any one else in the party. 

“ That’s what everybody says at first, young 
lady,” returned Captain Porter. “ Wait till you 
get seasoned a little, then you’ll find out the 
charms of Father Neptune’s kingdom. I don’t 
mind betting that by the time we get to Malta, 
you’ll have fallen in love with the Mediterranean, 
and won’t want to leave the vessel and will be 
begging me to take you on to Alexandria ! ” 

“And leave the others to go to Sicily? No, 
thanks!” laughed Lilias. 


CHAPTER XVI 


The Casa Bianca 

On the following morning the passengers of 
the Clytie woke to find themselves steaming into 
the port of Tangiers. They scrambled through 
their toilets and hurried on deck, in raptures over 
the view of the old Moorish town against a back- 
ground of green trees, and the blue waters of the 
bay in front. As some cargo was to be shipped, 
there would be time to go on shore, and a party 
was made up under the escort of Captain Porter 
and of the Greek agent who had arrived on board 
with the pilot. Donkeys were hired for the la- 
dies, and a cavalcade set forth to view the Kas- 
bah, or native market, and some beautiful gar- 
dens outside the city walls. It was strange to the 
girls to be in Morocco, with black faces all round 
them, and to catch glimpses through open door- 
ways of Moorish courtyards, of marble fountains, 
or of little Arab children chanting the Koran. 
They were glad indeed of a masculine escort, for 
their donkey-boys looked such a wild crew that 
would have been frightened to be left alone with 
215 


2 1 6 The Princess of the School 


them, and the eastern aspect and general dirt of 
the place, though picturesque, made them thank- 
ful when they were safely back again on board 
ship. 

To their intense interest, part of the cargo con- 
sisted of Mohammedan pilgrims for Mecca. The 
rank and file of these encamped on the lower deck, 
where they sat, ate, slept, and cooked their food 
over charcoal braziers, filling up their time by re- 
citing the Koran in a monotonous chant. A 
wealthy merchant from Morocco was also travel- 
ing to Alexandria with his wife and family, and had 
engaged all the second-class quarters of the Clytie 
for his exclusive occupation. His lady was 
brought on board closely veiled, and made no fur- 
ther appearance, but Dulcie and Carmel, stand- 
ing one day on the upper deck, could see down to 
the second-class deck, and noticed three small chil- 
dren run out to play. The boys were each 
clothed in a white garment with a gaily colored 
striped sash, but the beautiful little girl wore a 
dress of palest blue velvet, exquisitely embroid- 
ered with roses. Carmel, who adored children, 
could not resist the temptation to call to them 
and throw them each an orange, whereupon some 
warning voice summoned them inside the cabin, 
and after that, though the boys occasionally 
played on the deck, the girl was never again al- 
lowed to expose her face to the gaze of strangers. 


The Casa Bianca 


217 


Another brief halt was made at Algiers, a less 
barbaric place than Tangiers, and quite up to date 
and modern in its handsome French quarter, 
though picturesque in the Arab part of the city. 
It was possible to get carriages here, instead of 
donkeys, and the passengers went on shore for a 
delightful drive to the Caliph Mustapha palace, 
through woods of eucalyptus, and pine, and palm, 
and gardens of flowering shrubs. They would 
have been glad to stay longer in such a beautiful 
spot, but the Clytie was getting up steam, and 
unless they wished to be left behind they must 
go on board again. 

The Ingleton party agreed afterwards that 
their voyage down the Mediterranean was an ex- 
perience never to be forgotten. In the bright 
February sunshine the blue waters deserved their 
reputation. It was warm as summer, and all day 
the passengers lived on deck, watching the smooth 
sea and distant coastline, or amusing themselves 
with games. Mr. Stacey, with his jolly, hearty 
ways and talent for entertaining, was, of course, 
the life and soul of everything. He organized 
various sports during the day, and concerts and 
theatricals during the evening. He was great at 
deck cricket, which, owing to the limitations of 
the vessel, is a very different game from that on 
land. The balls are made of odds and ends of 
rope, twisted together by the sailors, and must be 


2 1 8 The Princess of the School 


hit with caution so as not to be sent overboard. 
Any luckless cricketer whose ball goes flying into 
the deep is immediately required, by the rules of 
ship’s etiquette, to buy another from the sailors 
who make them, so an unaccustomed batsman may 
be landed in much expense. Everybody found it 
great fun, however, and when they had lost the 
day’s supply of balls, would take to ring quoits 
and deck billiards instead. 

But perhaps the most popular game of all was 
“ bean-bags.” For this the passengers were di- 
vided into two teams. Each team stood in couples 
facing each other at a distance of about a yard. 
At the top and bottom of each column was placed 
a chair, and on the top chair were piled twelve 
small canvas bags filled with beans. The teams 
waited at attention till the umpire blew a whistle, 
at which signal they started simultaneously. The 
player nearest the chair on the right-hand side 
seized a bean-bag and flung it to his opposite 
neighbor, who in his turn flung it to No. 2 on the 
right-hand side, who threw it back to No. 2 on 
the left, and so on down the line. Meantime 
player No. i had caught up a second, and a third 
bean-bag, and continued passing on others till all 
the twelve were in process of motion. They 
were tossed backwards and forwards till they 
reached the chair at the bottom of the line, and 
were then returned in the same way that they had 


The Casa Bianca 


219 


come. Whichever team succeeded first in get- 
ting all its bean-bags back to its starting chair 
was considered to have won the game. It was 
really a much more difficult business than it 
sounds, for some of the passengers were “ butter- 
fingers ” and would fail to catch the bags, and 
much valuable time was wasted in picking them 
up, while others were apt to cheat, and in order 
to get on quicker would throw to No. 9 instead 
of to No. 8, an error which the umpire’s sharp 
eyes would immediately detect, and he would 
cause the bag to go back to the starting-point. 

Among all these amusements the time on the 
Mediterranean passed rapidly and pleasantly. 
Lilias was already wonderfully better, the mild 
sea breezes had almost banished her cough, and 
her appetite was a source of satisfaction to Cousin 
Clare. 

“ Casa Bianca will finish the cure! ” declared 
Carmel. “ I know what care Mother will take 
of you ! Only a few days more now, and we shall 
be there ! ” 

Captain Porter’s laughing prophecy that Lilias 
would be so much in love with voyaging that she 
would want to go on to Alexandria was partly 
justified, for she was genuinely sorry to leave the 
vessel when they arrived at Valetta, the port of 
Malta. 

“ I shall come on the Clytie again some day,” 


220 The Princess of the School 

she assured him. “ Only I bargain that you take 
me all the way up the Nile to look at the pyramids 
and the ruined temples! ” 

“ Very well, if you’ll undertake to dig out the 
Nile’s basin so as to accommodate a vessel of six 
thousands tons! ” laughed the captain. “ Other- 
wise I shall have to arrange to take you in a sea- 
plane!” 

“And we’d fly over the desert? Oh, that 
would be thrillsome ! Please book me a seat for 
next year, and I’ll go ! ” 

The Clytie arrived at Malta in the morning, 
and, as the local steamer did not start for Syra- 
cuse until midnight, the Ingleton party had the 
whole day at Valetta on their hands. They very 
sensibly established themselves at an hotel, or- 
dered lunch and dinner there, then went out into 
the town to take a walk along the ramparts and 
see what sights they could. Valetta, with its 
streets of steps, its wonderfully fortified harbors, 
its gay public gardens, its cathedral, and its ar- 
mory of the Knights of St. John, where are pre- 
served hundreds of priceless suits of armor be- 
longing to the Crusaders, the famous silver bells 
that rang peals from the churches, and the rare 
and beautiful pieces of Maltese lace exhibited in 
the shop windows, had many attractions for 
strangers, particularly those of British nationality. 
In the midst of such foreign surroundings it was 


The Casa Bianca 


221 


delightful to hear English spoken in the streets, to 
see the familiar figure of a policeman, and to 
know that the great warships in the harbor were 
part of the British Fleet, and were ready at any 
time to protect our merchant vessels. 

After a bewildering day’s sight-seeing the girls 
sat in the lounge of the hotel after dinner, trying 
to rest. They were very tired, and would gladly 
have gone to bed, but the Syracuse mail-boat ran 
only once in every twenty-four hours, and started 
at midnight, so their traveling must perforce be 
continued without the longed-for break. Cousin 
Clare cheered them up with the thoughts of the 
coffee ordered for ten o’clock, and of berths when 
they got on board the steamer. 

“ We might be far worse off,” she assured 
them. “ For at least we have a comfortable ho- 
tel to rest in. I remember once having to spend 
most of the night in a waiting-room at the station 
at Marseilles. Put your feet up on the sofa, 
Lilias! Carmel, child, if you’d shut your eyes, 
I believe you’d go to sleep. I vote we all try to 
doze for an hour, until our coffee comes to wake 
us up.” 

It was quite a quaint experience to leave the 
hotel at eleven o’clock and drive in carriages to 
the quay, then to get into small boats and be 
rowed out to the mail-steamer. It was a glorious 
night, with a moon and bright stars, the sky and 


222 


The Princess of the School 


the water looked a deep dark blue, and from ves- 
sels here and there lights shone out that sent 
twisting, flickering reflections into the harbor. 
Their steamer was some distance away, so it was 
a long row out from the Customs House across 
the shimmering water. The landlord of the ho- 
tel, Signor Giordano, who understood the dubious 
ways of native boatmen, went with them to pre- 
vent extortionate demands, and saw them safely 
on board. 

“ The blackguards would have charged us 
treble if we’d been alone! ” declared Mr. Stacey. 
“ They are a set of brigands, the whole lot of 
them. By daylight we might have managed, but 
it’s difficult in the dark. I’m thankful to see all 
our luggage here. I thought a hand-bag or two 
were going to be lost! ” 

If the girls had counted upon a peaceful night, 
they were much disappointed. They retired, in- 
deed, to their berths, but not to sleep. The short 
crossing between Malta and Sicily is one of the 
worst in the word, and there was a swell which 
almost rivalled their experiences in the Bay of 
Biscay. The little vessel pitched and tossed and 
rolled, and caused them many hours of discom- 
fort, till at length, at six o’clock, it steamed into 
the harbor at Syracuse, and landed them on Sici- 
lian soil. A train journey of a few hours fol- 
lowed, to Targia Vecchia, which was the nearest 


The Casa Bianca 223 

railway station to Montalesso, where Carmel’s 
home was situated. 

Mr. Greville met them at Targia Vecchia, and 
after kissing Carmel, who rushed straight into 
his arms, gave a most hearty welcome to the rest 
of the party. He had two cars waiting, and after 
the usual preliminaries of counting up luggage, 
and giving up checks and tickets, they found them- 
selves whisking along a good Sicilian road in the 
direction of Etna, whose white, snow-covered 
peak was the commanding feature in the whole of 
the surrounding landscape. The Casa Bianca or 
White House justified its name, for it was a hand- 
some building of white stone, encircled by a ve- 
randa, and hung with beautiful flowering creep- 
ers. In its rich, sub-tropical garden grew palms, 
aloes, bamboos, and the flaming Judas trees, 
thickets of roses, and a wilderness of geraniums. 
The Ingletons caught an impression of gay for- 
eign blossoms as they motored up the stately drive 
to the steps of the house. Their arrival had 
evidently been watched, for on the veranda was 
assembled quite a big company ready to greet 
them. First there was Carmel’s mother, the 
Signora Greville, as she was generally called, a 
beautiful, sweet-looking lady, with her daughter’s 
dark eyes, and the gracious stately manners of 
old Sicilian traditions. Then there were the chil- 
dren, Bertram, Nina, Vincent, and Luigia, the two 


224 The Princess of the School 


first fair, like their English father, the younger 
ones taking after the Italian side of the family. 
With them were a number of other relations who 
had motored over to welcome Carmel home; her 
uncle, Richard Greville, and Aunt Gabrielle, with 
their children, Douglas, Aimee, Tito, and Claude; 
her mother’s brother, Signor Bernardo Trapani, 
with her cousins, Ernesto, Vittore, and Rosalia; 
and her mother’s sister, Signora Rosso, with 
pretty Berta and Gaspare, and little Pepino. 

All these nineteen relations gave the Ingletons 
a typical Italian greeting. They embraced Car- 
mel with the warm-hearted demonstrative en- 
thusiasm characteristic of the country, and wel- 
comed the rest of the party with charming friend- 
liness. Everybody chattered at once, making kind 
inquiries about the journey, and the travelers were 
taken indoors to change their dusty clothes before 
coming down to the elaborate lunch that was 
spread ready in the dining-room. 

The almost patriarchal hospitality of the Casa 
Bianca suggested the establishment of an Arab 
chief, or a mediaeval baron, rather than that of 
an ordinary household of the twentieth century. 
It was the strangest combination of north and 
south that could be imagined. The Grevilles and 
their relatives spoke English and Italian equally 
well, and conversed sometimes in one language 
and sometimes in the other. They had been set- 


The Casa Bianca 


225 


tied for many years at Montalesso, and had, in- 
deed, established quite a colony of their own 
there. Mr. Frank Greville and his brother, 
Richard, together with Signor Trapani and Signor 
Rosso, were partners in a great fruit-shipping 
business. Thousands of cases of beautiful or- 
anges, lemons, grapes, and almonds were packed 
at their warehouses and sent away to England and 
America. They had orange and lemon groves 
and vineyards inland, and employed a small army 
of people tending the trees, gathering the fruit, 
wrapping it, and dispatching it by sea at the port 
of Targia Vecchia. Being connected by marriage 
as well as business, they formed a pleasant family 
circle, and were constantly meeting at each other’s 
houses. Their children grew up in the happy 
Italian fashion of counting cousins almost as close 
as brothers and sisters. 

It took the Ingletons a little while to get ac- 
customed to the life at Casa Bianca, but Carmel, 
sitting in the creeper-covered veranda, explained 
many things to them. 

“ You musn’t think our particular ways are the 
ways of the country. We’re an absolute mixture 
of English and Italian; Aunt Gabrielle is French, 
and Aunt Giulia a real Sicilian.” 

“ What is the difference between a Sicilian and 
an Italian? ” asked Dulcie. 

“ The difference between Welsh and English. 


226 The Princess of the School 


Sicily is, of course, a part of Italy, and under the 
same government, just as Wales is part of Great 
Britain, but its people are of separate origin from 
the Italians, and speak a dialect of their own. 
Italian is the polite language of Sicily, which is 
spoken in law courts, and shops, and among edu- 
cated people, but most of the peasants speak 
Sicilian amongst themselves.” 

44 Can you speak it? ” 

44 A little. All the words ending in 4 e ’ are 
turned into 4 i.’ For instance, 4 latte ’ ( milk ) 
becomes 4 latti,’ and 4 pesce ’ (fish) 4 pesci,’ o 
changes into u, and 11 into dd. 4 Freddo ’ (cold) 
becomes 4 friddu,’ and 4 gallina ’ (a hen) 

4 gaddina. ’ ” 

44 How fearfully confusing! I should never 
learn it! The few sentences of Italian I’ve man- 
aged to pick up are quite bad enough! ” 

44 Why, I think you’re getting on very well. 
Sareda understood you perfectly this morning 
when you asked for hot milk instead of coffee.” 

The best of Casa Bianca was that with its am- 
ple space and its traditions of hospitality, it 
seemed to absorb the Ingletons and make them 
feel more members of the family than guests. 
Mr. Stacey and Everard were apportioned a small 
sitting-room for a study, and worked hard every 
morning, giving the afternoon to recreation. 
Lilias, who had completely lost her cough, and 


The Casa Bianca 


227 


looked wonderfully well, was put to rest on the 
piazza in the mornings, though she protested that 
she was no longer an invalid. Dulcie, radiantly 
happy, and enjoying her holiday to the full, 
trotted about with Carmel, and made friends with 
the children and their French governess. Ber- 
tram, Nina, Vincent, and baby Luigia were dear 
little people, and were only too anxious to show 
the guest the glories of the garden. Hand in 
hand with them, Dulcie inspected the marble foun- 
tain whose basin was full of gold and silver fish, 
the tank where pink water-lilies grew, and the 
groves of orange trees where the ripe fruit hung 
like the golden apples of the Hesperides, and 
Parma violets made clumps of pale purple sweet- 
ness beneath. 

Remembering that it was early in March, and 
that bitter winds were probably blowing over 
Chilcombe and Cheverley, Dulcie was amazed at 
the warmth of the Sicilian sunshine and the wealth 
of the flowers. Pink ivy-leaved geraniums trailed 
from every wall, great white arum lilies opened 
their stately sheaths; marigolds, salvias, carna- 
tions, and other summer flowers were in bloom, 
and little green lizards basked on the stones, 
whisking away in great alarm, however, if they 
were approached. 

The general mental atmosphere of the place 
was genial and restful. Mr. Greville was kind- 


228 The Princess of the School 


ness itself to his young guests, and they had all 
fallen in love with Carmel’s mother. Her charm- 
ing manners and gaiety were very attractive, and 
the slight foreign accent with which she spoke 
English was quite pretty. Lilias, who had before 
felt almost angry with Carmel for feeling home- 
sick at Cheverley, began at last to understand 
some of the attractions which held her cousin’s 
heart to Sicily. 

“ I’d rather have the Chase, of course,” she 
said to Dulcie, “ but on the whole Montalesso is 
a very beautiful spot.” 

“ So beautiful that I shouldn’t mind living here 
all the rest of my life ! ” said Dulcie, gazing 
through the vine-festooned window out over the 
orange groves to where the white snow-capped 
peak of Etna reared itself against the intense blue 
of the Sicilian sky. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Sicilian Cousins 

The relations, who had assembled to welcome 
Carmel back, came often to the Casa Bianca, and 
in quite a short time they and the Ingletons were 
on terms of intimacy. Ernesto Trapani, a hand- 
some young fellow, slightly older than Everard, 
was studying at the University of Palermo, in 
which city Vittore was at school, and the two 
brothers came home from Saturday to Monday. 
Douglas Greville, a tall boy of seventeen who had 
been at school in Paris, also went to the Palermo 
University for certain classes in chemistry, which 
would help him afterwards in the conduct of his 
father’s business. The younger children of the 
various families, Aimee, Tito, and Claude Gre- 
ville, Rosalia Trapani, and Berta, Gaspare, and 
Pepino Rosso, had lessons with private govern- 
esses, under whose charge they had learnt to 
chatter Italian, English, and French with the ut- 
most ease. 

On the Saturday after the Ingletons’ arrival 
all these young people came over to Casa Bianca, 
229 


230 The Princess of the School 

and it was decided to take picnic baskets, and go 
out in a body to show the guests some of the sights 
of the neighborhood. So a very gay party started 
off from the veranda. First they went through 
long groves of orange and lemon trees, where 
peasant women, with bright handkerchiefs tied 
over their heads, were gathering the fruit and 
packing it carefully in hampers, 

“ You must simply live on oranges here,” said 
Dulcie, accepting the ripe specimen offered her by 
Douglas. “ Do you know this is the fifth Fve had 
this morning? ” 

“ On the contrary, we hardly ever touch them 
ourselves,” answered Douglas. “ I suppose we 
have so many that we don’t care about them here. 
I used to like them, though, when I was in Paris.” 

“ It would take me a long time to get tired of 
them,” declared Dulcie. “ I did not know before 
what a really ripe orange tastes like. They’re 
absolutely delicious. Why don’t we get them like 
this in England? ” 

“ They wouldn’t keep if they were packed ripe, 
and fruit that ripens on a tree is always much 
sweeter than when it has been stored.” 

“Yes, I know: our English apples are like 
that. I wish I could be here in the autumn to see 
your peaches and vines! I shan’t want to go 
away from this ripping place. I’ve never seen 
anything so lovely in my life! ” 


Sicilian Cousins 


231 


Montalesso was indeed in all the glory of its 
spring charm. Everywhere the almond trees 
were in flower, and the effect of the masses of 
lovely lacy blossom against the brilliant blue of 
the sky was a perfect picture. With the cherry 
bloom of Japan the almond blossom of Sicily holds 
equal rank as one of the most beautiful sights in 
the world. From the height where the young 
people were walking they could see the sea at 
Targia Vecchia, and the little red sails of fishing 
smacks in the harbor, and the flat topped half 
Moorish houses, each with its clump of orange 
trees and its veranda of vines. Beyond, a land- 
mark for all the district, was the great glittering 
peak of Etna. Its lower slopes were clothed with 
vineyards, and dotted here and there with villages, 
a second range was forest clad, and its dazzling 
summit, 10,742 feet above sea-level, lay in the 
region of the eternal snows. A thin column of 
smoke issued from the crater, and stretched like 
a gray ribbon across the sky. Lilias viewed it 
with some uneasiness. 

“ I hope there won’t be an eruption! ” she said 
nervously. 

The boys laughed. 

“ English people are always so scared at poor 
old Etna ! They imagine the crater is going to 
turn on fireworks for their entertainment. That 
smoke is a safety valve, so don’t be afraid. The 


232 The Princess of the School 

observatory gives warning if anything serious is 
going to take place.” 

u And what happens then? ” 

“ Some of the people on the slopes run away in 
time, and some stay to guard their property. 
We’re quite safe at Montalesso, for we’re fifteen 
miles away, though the clear air makes the peak 
look so near.” 

They had left the lemon groves and the al- 
mond blossom behind, and were now walking 
along a grassy table-land where flocks of goats 
were feeding. The goatherds, picturesque little 
boys dressed in sheepskin coats and soft felt hats, 
with brown eyes and thick brown curls, were 
amusing themselves by playing on reed pipes. 
They recalled the Idylls of Theocritus, and might 
almost have been products of the fourth century 
B. c. instead of the twentieth century A. D. The 
wild flowers that grew in this plain were gorgeous. 
There were anemones of all kinds, scarlet, purple, 
pale pink, and white : irises of many colors, blue 
pimpernel, yellow salvia, violet grape hyacinths, 
and clumps of small white narcissus. Above all 
rose the splendid pale pink blossoms of the aspho- 
del, a striking feature of a Sicilian landscape. 

The Ingletons ran about in greatest delight, 
picking handfuls of what were to them beautiful 
garden flowers. 

“ It’s a moot point whether Proserpine was 


Sicilian Cousins 


233 


gathering narcissus or asphodel when Pluto ran 
away with her,'” declared Mr. Stacey, offering 
Lilias a bouquet which a Greek nymph might have 
been pleased to accept. “ I incline to asphodel 
myself, because of its immortal significance. It 
gives an added meaning to the myth.” 

“What is the story exactly?’’ asked Dulcie. 
“ Do tell it, please ! ” 

“Yes, do! ” begged all the children, crowding 
round Mr. Stacey. “ We want to hear your Eng- 
lish story! ” 

“ It’s not an English one, but a very old Greek 
one. Shall we rest on this wall while I tell it? 
Luigia shall come on my knee. Yes, there’s room 
for Pepino too, and Gaspare and Vincent may sit 
next to me. Well, in the old Golden Age, when 
the world was young, Ceres, the Goddess of the 
Harvest, who gave all the fruits of earth to men* 
had a beautiful daughter named Proserpine, or, 
as the Greeks called her, Persephone. She made 
Sicily her place of residence, and she and her 
nymphs used to delight themselves with its flow- 
ery meadows and limpid streams, and beautiful 
views. One day she and her companions were 
wandering in the plain of Enna, gathering flowers, 
when there suddenly appeared the god Pluto, 
king of Hades, the regions of the dead. Falling 
in love with beautiful Proserpine, he seized her, 
and forced her to get into his chariot. She 


234 The Princess of the School 

screamed to her maidens, but they could not help 
her, and Pluto carried her off. With his trident 
he struck a hole in the ground, so that chariot and 
horses fell through into Hades, of which place 
Proserpine became the queen. Now Ceres did 
not know what had happened to her daughter, 
and she wandered all over the earth seeking for 
her. At last she found Proserpine’s girdle on the 
surface of the waters of a fountain where Pluto 
had struck his hole in the ground, and the nymph 
Arethusa told her how her daughter had been 
stolen away. Full of indignation, Ceres went to 
complain to Jupiter, who promised that Proser- 
pine should be restored if she had taken nothing 
to eat in the realm of Hades. Unfortunately 
Proserpine, as she walked in the Elysian fields, 
had gathered and eaten a pomegranate, which act 
constituted her a subject of those regions. To 
pacify Ceres, Jupiter permitted that Proserpine 
should spend six months of every year with Pluto 
in Hades, and the other six months with her 
mother on earth. Each spring Ceres went to 
the entrance of a great gloomy grotto to meet 
her daughter, and with her return all the flowers 
bloomed on earth again. There is a very cele- 
brated picture by Sir Frederick Leighton, called 
‘ The Return of Persephone.’ The artist has 
painted Ceres at the entrance of the grotto with 
the sunshine behind her, holding out her arms 


Sicilian Cousins 


235 

to the lovely daughter whom the god Mercury is 
bringing back to her out of the darkness. 

“ The story is one of those old nature myths 
of which the Greeks were so fond. The time 
Proserpine spent in Hades symbolized winter, 
when winds blew cold, and few flowers bloomed, 
and her return symbolized the advent of spring. 
It has a deeper meaning, also, to those who look 
for it, because it is a type of the Resurrection, 
and shows that our dear ones are not really taken 
from us, but will come again in more glorious 
life and beauty. Many of the old Greek myths 
had this meaning hidden under them, as if they 
were sent to prepare people for the truth that 
Christ was to reveal more fully later on. Nearly 
all early religions began with pure and beautiful 
conceptions of God, and then trailed down to 
earth, because their followers were too ignorant 
to understand. The ancient Egyptians believed 
in God, and said that one of His attributes was 
strength. The strongest thing they knew was 
a bull, so they made colossal statues of bulls in 
black marble, to show God’s strength, but the 
populace worshipped the statues instead of God 
himself, and became idolaters. In the same way 
the ancient Greeks realized that Beauty was part 
of God’s scheme of work, and they came to wor- 
ship Beauty quite apart from Goodness, forget- 
ting that the two must go together. They 


23 6 The Princess of the School 


imagined their gods and goddesses as magnificent 
men and women, with superb bodies but no beauty 
of soul, and as there was nothing uplifting in this 
religion, it soon died out, as all things die in time, 
if they don’t help us to grow nearer to God. The 
story of Proserpine is one of the prettiest of the 
old Greek legends, and I can just imagine her 
gathering these lovely flowers. I believe we’re 
going on to see her fountain, aren’t we, Vittore? 
She made it with her tears when Pluto carried her 
off.” 

The object of the expedition was indeed to see 
Proserpine’s fountain, a clear spring out of which 
flowed a small river. After walking another mile 
across the meadows, the party came to this river, 
where they were able to engage boats to row 
them up to the fount. It was a unique spot, for 
the whole of the banks were bordered with an 
avenue of papyrus, which grew there in greatest 
profusion. Legend said that it had been planted 
by an Egyptian princess who brought it from the 
Nile, and that it grew in no other place in Europe, 
a statement which was satisfactory enough, though 
rather difficult to verify. There was much bar- 
gaining, after true Sicilian fashion, with the na- 
tive boatmen, who demanded at least four times 
what they meant to take, protesting that they 
would be ruined at the sum Ernesto named to 
them, and finally, when he pretended to walk 


Sicilian Cousins 


237 


away, accepting his offer with enthusiasm. This 
very necessary preliminary satisfactorily settled, 
the company was packed into the small boats, 
about four going in each. In the distribution of 
the guests occurred the first hitch in the Ingletons* 
visit. Mr. Stacey suggested that it was advisable 
to sandwich children and grown-ups, and he and 
Lilias started in the first “ barca ” in charge of 
little Luigia, Vincent, and Pepino. Dulcie and 
Douglas were responsible for Gaspare, Rosalia, 
and Nina, while Vittore, and Aimee, Claude, and 
Bertram went together. Carmel held Tito and 
Berta each by a hand, and Ernesto helped them 
all three into a boat. Everard was in the very 
act of jumping in after them, when Ernesto 
stopped him. 

“ Excuse me, Signore, that is my place ! There 
is plenty of room for you in the other boat.” 

“ And surely in this too? ” said Everard, flush- 
ing with annoyance. 

Ernesto shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Oh, no! You and I are too heavy to be to- 
gether. Vittore and the others are light; you 
will just make weight.” And, stepping in, Er- 
nesto took his seat beside Carmel, and told the 
boatman to push off, while Everard, with a face 
like a thundercloud, joined the younger children. 

Up the narrow little river the light boats 
pushed, under an overhanging archway of papy- 


238 The Princess of the School 

rus reeds, so that they seemed as if penetrating 
through a green jungle. The boatmen began to 
sing Sicilian folk-songs, and Vittore and Rosalia 
and Tito and some of the others joined in. To 
everyone except Everard the excursion was de- 
lightful, but he, considering himself treated with 
scant politeness, sat sulking in Vittore’s boat, and 
would scarcely speak to Aimee, who made a really 
heroic effort to amuse him. 

Proserpine’s fountain, where after half an 
hour’s rowing the boatmen took them, was a clear 
deep pool reflecting the blue of the sky, and en- 
circled with papyrus, donax reeds, and beautiful 
irises. It seemed a fit setting for the legend of 
antiquity, and a fertile imagination could almost 
conjure up a vision of Pluto, with his chariot and 
black horses, carrying off the lovely nymph from 
her meadows of flowers to his gloomy realm of 
darkness. On the way back the second boat made 
a halt to cut some pieces of papyrus reed, and 
Dulcie called out in much excitement to the occu- 
pants of the other “ barcas.” 

“Lilias! Everard! We’re cutting some 
papyrus, and Douglas is going to show me how to 
make it into parchment like the ancient Egyptians 
used to write on. Won’t it be gorgeous? Don’t 
you want some too? ” 

“Rather!” replied Lilias, appealing to Mr. 
Stacey, who promptly pulled out his penknife, 


Sicilian Cousins 


239 

and began to hack away at a stout stem on her 
behalf. 

The lengths of papyrus which they bore off with 
them somewhat resembled thick pieces of rhu- 
barb, and how these were ever going to be turned 
into writing materials was a puzzle to Dulcie, 
though Douglas assured her airily that he knew 
all about it. The elders of the party were glad 
to get the lively youngsters safely on dry land 
again. 

“ I thought Rosalia was going to turn into a 
water nymph,” said Lilias, comparing notes after- 
wards with Dulcie. “ She leaned over in the most 
dangerous manner, and so did Tito. If the boats 
hadn’t been so broad, they would have capsized.” 

“ Then Pluto would have bagged the whole 
lot of us ! More than he quite bargained for, 
perhaps! ” laughed Dulcie. 

The making of the parchment was a matter of 
great interest to the Ingletons. With Douglas as 
an instructor, they all set to work on its manu- 
facture. Taking ten inch lengths of the papyrus 
reeds, they cut them into long, thin, vertical slices, 
and laid these across each other in the form of a 
small mat between sheets of blotting paper. This 
was next squeezed through a wringing-machine 
to rid it of superfluous moisture, then placed 
under a heavy weight, in the manner of pressing 
flowers. When at last it was dry, the alternate 


240 The Princess of the School 

layers of the papyrus had adhered together and 
amalgamated into a substance identical with the 
old Egyptian parchment, though much coarser 
and rougher in quality. The girls were delighted 
with it. They borrowed a book on Egypt from 
Mr. Greville’s library, and copied little pictures 
of the Sphinx, scarabs, Ra, the Sun god, and other 
appropriate bits, painting them in bold colors on 
their pieces of parchment, and feeling as if they 
had gone back a few thousand years in history, 
and were dwellers in Memphis or some other 
great city on the banks of the Nile. They de- 
signed special ones for Miss Walters, Miss 
Hardy, and Miss Herbert, and smaller offerings 
for Gowan, Bertha, Phillida, Noreen, and others 
of their friends at Chilcombe Hall. Papyrus, in- 
deed, became the rage at Casa Bianca. All the 
various cousins vied with one another in making 
the choicest specimens. They wrote letters to 
each other upon it, rolling up the parchments and 
tying them with ribbons in the manner of ancient 
scribes. Perhaps the whitest and best welded 
sheet of all was one made by Mr. Stacey, who 
turned out to be so clever at the new craze that 
he jokingly declared he must be a priest of some 
Egyptian temple come to life again. He used a 
reed pen, and got some very happy effects in hiero- 
glyphs, puzzling out the names of each of the 
company in the curious picture writing of the days 


Sicilian Cousins 


241 


of the Pharaohs who reared the pyramids. 

“ Will you take us some day to see the Nile? ” 
asked Lilias, happy in the possession of her name 
neatly pictured on the specially white sheet of 
papyrus, with a lotus bloom, the lily of Egypt, 
painted underneath. “ You know Captain Porter 
said we ought to go to Alexandria ! ” 

“ Nothing would please me better, if the fates 
willed it! ” smiled Mr. Stacey. 

“ We’ll go in a party, and hire a boat up the 
Nile, and take all the Grevilles with us, specially 
Douglas,” declared Dulcie. “ I count them my 
cousins too. Don’t you, Everard? ” 

“ Right-0 1 ” laughed Everard. “ Cousins by 
all manner of means let them be! ” (“ Though I 
don’t bargain to include the Trapani family among 
our new relations ! ” he added softly to himself, 
half under his breath). 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A Night of Adventure 

It will be seen from the events recorded in the 
last chapter that Everard, while liking the various 
members of the Greville family, had taken a great 
prejudice against Ernesto Trapani. The fact is 
that Everard, brought up with all the insular pride 
of birth of an English squire, had a poor opinion 
of foreigners, and was unwise enough occasionally 
to reveal his attitude of British superiority, and 
to give himself airs. Ernesto, handsome, clever, 
and with a long line of Italian ancestry at his 
back, considered himself in every way a match for 
the young Englishman, and would argue with him 
on many points, often beating him by logic, though 
never convincing him. It annoyed Everard to 
see Ernesto on terms of great intimacy with Car- 
mel, and to hear them talk together in Italian, a 
language of which, as yet, he knew only a few 
sentences. 

“ I wish you’d speak decent English, instead of 
that beastly lingo! ” he said to her one day, petu- 
lantly. 


242 


A Night of Adventure 243 

Carmel flushed crimson. 

“ Please don’t call Italian a beastly lingo ! I’m 
sorry if I’ve been rude in speaking it, but I some- 
times forget that you don’t understand what we’re 
saying. It comes naturally to me. I’ll try to 
remember.” 

“ Remember you’re an Ingleton, and the owner 
of English property,” urged Everard. u Now 
you’re at Casa Bianca I don’t believe you ever give 
a thought to the Chase ! ” 

“ Yes, I do! Oftener than you suppose. I’ve 
grown to love England more than I believed pos- 
sible. In summer the country was all green and 
beautiful, while here every blade of grass gets 
burnt up by the blazing sun. Oh, yes! I’m 
really very fond of the Chase ! I am indeed! ” 

“ Then, which do you like better — England or 
Sicily?” 

But at that question Carmel shook her head. 

“ My opinions are my own, and I’m not going 
to tell them to anybody! ” she flashed merrily. 
“ It’s a good motto to enjoy yourself wherever 
you may happen to be ! That’s all you’ll get out 
of me, Mr. Everard! And quite enough, too! ” 

Though Everard might have private reasons 
of his own that marred the pleasure of his visit 
to Montalesso, his sisters were having the time 
of their lives. Lilias, with the help of Mr. 
Stacey, had taken enthusiastically to botany, and 


2 44 The Princess of the School 


was making a collection of pressed Sicilian flowers. 
She had also begun to sketch under his tuition, 
and had finished quite a pretty little water color 
of the house. Dulcie, always interested in coun- 
try life, was thoroughly happy on the estate. She 
liked to watch the gathering of the oranges and 
lemons, the pruning of the vines; to see the great 
white bullocks plowing in the fields or slowly 
drawing the gaily painted carts. The wealth of 
flowers delighted her, and much to Everard’s dis- 
gust, she frankly acknowledged herself in love 
with Sicily, and insisted that she would like to live 
there. 

“ I shall ask Aunt Nita to keep me instead of 
Carmel ! ” she declared. “ You may all go back 
to England and leave me behind! ” 

“ What would Mr. Bowden say to that? ” asked 
Cousin Clare. “ He has arranged for you to stay 
another two years at school! ” 

“ Oh! bother Mr. Bowden! I wish he wasn’t 
my guardian ! Can’t I swop him, and have Mr. 
Greville instead? ” 

“ Unfortunately people can’t change their 
guardians! ” laughed Cousin Clare. “ They have 
to stick to those to whom the law assigns them. 
Cheer up! You might have a far sterner one 
than Mr. Bowden, and a much more disagreeable 
school than Chilcombe. You’ve the summer term 
to look forward to when you get back.” 


A Night of Adventure 245 

“ Chilcombe isn’t Montalesso ! ” persisted 
Dulcie, pulling a face. “ No, you dinky, deary 
Cousin Clare, you’ll never persuade me to like 
school again! I shall catch a cold on purpose 
as soon as I go back, and then you’ll have to bring 
me over here for the sake of a warmer climate. 
I’ll bribe the old doctor ! ” 

“ Who’ll probably send you to Switzerland for 
open-air treatment among the snow ! ” said Cousin 
Clare, who generally managed to get the last 
word. 

The Ingletons had now been some weeks at the 
Casa Bianca, and were beginning to grow more 
accustomed to Sicilian ways. In Mr. Greville’s 
car they had been taken to many of the principal 
places of interest in the neighborhood; they had 
seen the Castello, the old ruined tower which in 
bygone days had been the stronghold of brigands, 
the ancient Greek amphitheater, with its marble 
seats still bearing the names of owners who sat 
and watched the chariot races in the fourth cen- 
tury B. c the beautiful Temple of Neptune, and 
the Palazzo Salvatore, with its museum of price- 
less treasures. There was one local gathering, 
however, which Carmel declared they must not 
on any account miss. 

“ I’m so glad you will here for the fair at 
Targia Vecchia!” she said. “It’s really the 
event of the whole year. You’ll see more Sicilian 


246 The Princess of the School 

customs there than anywhere else I know. The 
peasants come down from the mountains for miles 
round. You’ll just love it! ” 

Such a spectacle was, of course, a great attrac- 
tion to the Ingletons, so a select party was made 
up to visit the famous fair. Signora Greville, 
nervous about infection, would not allow her 
younger children to go, for fear they might catch 
measles among the motley crowd, and the same 
cautious care was extended over the children of 
the other families, but Douglas and Aimee joined 
the expedition, and Ernesto and Vittore, some- 
what to Everard’s disgust, had a special holiday 
from Palermo in order to be present. They all 
set off on foot, and followed the winding road 
that led down the hill-side from Montalesso to 
the little harbor of Targia Vecchia. 

For once the country-side seemed alive with 
people. Down every mountain path descended 
donkeys, on which were seated girls or women in 
their best gala garments, striped skirts, bright 
aprons, lace on their velvet bodices, gay kerchiefs 
on their heads, and large gold ear-rings in their 
ears. The men who led the donkeys were dressed 
in equally picturesque fashion. Many wore black 
velvet jackets and scarlet Neapolitan caps, or long 
brown cloaks with hoods over their heads; their 
legs bound with rough puttees, and their feet 
thrust into sandals of hide with the hair left on. 


A Night of Adventure 247 

Everybody seemed to carry a large cotton um- 
brella, either of bright green or magenta. 

“ They think it looks grand,” explained Carmel. 
u Every peasant brings his umbrella to the fair, to 
show that he has one ! ” 

44 Except the brigands,” added Vittore. 44 You 
can always tell a brigand because he never carries 
an umbrella.” 

“ Are there any brigands? ” asked Dulcie anx- 
iously. 

“ Oh, yes ! ” replied Vittore, winking secretly 
at Ernesto. 44 There are quite a number still in 
the neighborhood.” 

“ I was talking to one only the other day! ” 
admitted Ernesto. 

“ Not really?” 

44 It’s quite a profession still in Sicily.” 

“ Do they catch people and hold them to ran- 
som?” Dulcie’s face was a study. 

44 Certainly they do, and chop their fingers off if 
their relations don’t pay up. It’s quite an ordi- 
nary little trick of theirs.” 

“ O-o-oh! Is it safe to go to the fair, do you 
think? That man in front hasn’t any umbrella ! ” 

“ Don’t be a scared rabbit, Dulcie ! You little 
silly, can’t you see they’re ragging you? ” put in 
Everard impatiently. u There are no brigands 
left in Sicily now ! ” 

44 Aren’t there, indeed? ” said Ernesto. 44 Ah! 


248 The Princess of the School 

That shows how much you know about it ! Only 
last week the Count Rozallo was taken prisoner 
on the road to Catania, and carried off into the 
mountains. He’s there yet, till he pays a ransom 
of 25,000 lire.” 

“Pooh! I expect he’s done it to evade his 
creditors, if the story is true. I’ll believe in 
brigands when I meet them, and not before ! ” 
scoffed Everard. 

“ And I shall be frightened of every man who 
doesn’t carry a big red or green umbrella! ” de- 
clared Dulcie, hanging on to the arm which Doug- 
las gallantly offered for her protection. “ What 
do you think about it, Carmel? ” 

“ I think I’m quite safe, for the brigands are 
generally very chivalrous to women, and only run 
away with gentlemen and chop off their fingers ! ” 
laughed Carmel. 

By this time they had descended the road, and 
were entering the picturesque little town. Gener- 
ally Targia Vecchia was the quietest of places, 
but to-day it was en fete . The fair was held all 
along the main street, in a large square opposite 
the church, and also on the beach. Everywhere 
there were stalls, selling every commodity that can 
be imagined. On the sweet-stall was sugared 
bread in the shape of hearts or rings, covered with 
gold and silver tinsel; there were sugar images, 
fruits, little baskets, carriages, birds, animals, all 


A Night of Adventure 249 

made in sugar, and apparently much in request 
among the juvenile population. There were 
cheap toys, bright handkerchiefs, Venetian shoes, 
tambourines, lengths of gay dress materials, dates, 
figs, and oranges, and the inevitable red and green 
cotton umbrellas. The small shops, following an 
ancient custom which dates back so many centuries 
B. c. } had hung out signs to signify the nature of 
their wares to those peasants who could not read. 
Over the baker’s doorway dangled a loaf, the 
shoemaker had a large boot, and the wine shops 
still showed the garlands of ivy once dedicated 
to Bacchus. A gaily-garbed chattering crew of 
people moved from stall to stall, laughing, gesticu- 
lating, and bargaining, and evidently enjoying 
themselves. A pretty girl was trying ear-rings, 
and looking at the effect in a mirror held by the 
vendor, while older folks flocked round a quack 
medicine dealer, who was loudly proclaiming the 
virtues of the various bottles. 

The scene on the shore was even more pic- 
turesque than that in the town. The beach, which 
was covered with pebbly sand, commanded a beau- 
tiful view of hills clad with prickly pear, of the 
bright blue sea, the distant Calabrian coast, and 
mountains tipped with snow. Gaudily painted 
carts were drawn up, while their owners bought 
and sold, and rows of donkeys, with smart trap- 
pings and saddle-bags, were tied to posts. On the 


25° The Princess of the School 


sand were numbers of animals for sale — oxen, 
cows, calves, goats, kids, great black hogs covered 
with bristles like wild boars, and tiny pigs which, 
when bought, were popped into bags with their 
heads and the two front feet peeping out. The 
noise was indescribable. Cattle lowed, pigs 
squealed and grunted, men shouted, children cried, 
and musicians sang and rattled tambourines. 
Beggars of all descriptions, the blind, the halt, 
and the maimed were there, clamoring for alms, 
and calling attention to their deficiencies, often 
thrusting a withered hand or the stump of an arm 
under the very noses of strangers, to demand 
sympathy and money from them. 

Lilias and Dulcie began to understand why 
Signora Greville had not allowed the younger 
children to come to the fair. They were almost 
frightened by the dirt and impudence of the beg- 
gars, and each clung to the arm of a masculine 
protector to pilot her through the crowd. They 
were, indeed, glad to move away from the rather 
rough element on the beach, and turn back 
through the town, where the peasants were now 
taking lunch of maccaroni and omelettes at tables 
spread in the streets. They bought a few curiosi- 
ties and souvenirs at the stalls, stopped to listen to 
a band of musicians, then turned up the hill-side 
again, and made their way back to Montalesso, 


A Night of Adventure 251 

leaving Targia Vecchia to continue its merry- 
making. 

“ I should think the fair must be a wonderful 
sight at night! ” said Everard that afternoon at 
the Casa Bianca. 

“ Rather,” agreed Ernesto. “ The people will 
be dancing down the streets by torch light and 
singing at the pitch of their voices.” 

“ I’d give anything to see it! ” 

“ I shouldn’t go, my boy, if I were you,” put in 
Mr. Greville quietly. “You’d find it a rowdy 
place, and not at all to your liking. The wine 
shops will have been very busy all day.” 

“ And the people aren’t over gentle with 
strangers when their blood’s up,” added Vittore. 
“ They’ve no use for a nice young Englishman 
down in Targia Vecchia! Best stay safe at 
home.” 

Vittore, who had waited till his uncle was out 
of earshot, spoke tauntingly. Everard colored 
crimson. 

“ I’m not afraid of a few Sicilian peasants! ” 
he remarked. 

Vittore’s sneer had aroused his opposition, and 
made him determined to go, more particularly as 
Carmel had expressed great regret at not having 
bought a certain necklace which she had seen on a 
stall, and wished to add to a collection she was 


252 The Princess of the School 

making of Sicilian peasant jewelry. It would be 
a triumph to walk down alone to the fair, buy 
the necklace, and show these young foreigners 
that Englishmen knew how to take care of them- 
selves. He did not mention his intention to Mr. 
Stacey or to Mr. Greville, but waiting till it was 
almost dark he avoided the family, dashed into 
the garden, and set off along the road to Targia 
Vecchia. 

As Mr. Greville had prophesied, he found the 
little town in a decidedly lively condition. Bar- 
rels of wine were being broached in the streets 
by the light of flaring torches, and most of the 
men were in an excited condition. The Cheap 
Jacks were still doing a brisk trade, and at the 
jewelry stall Everard was able to buy the souvenir 
he wanted for Carmel. It was the last of the 
sort left, so he considered himself in luck. He 
put the small parcel in his pocket and turned away, 
rather disgusted with the riot of the town, and 
glad to leave the noise and glare behind him. He 
tramped up the steep country road with a sense of 
relief. 

It was a beautiful calm night, and a half moon 
hung silver in the sky. The stars, far brighter 
than they ever appear in England, twinkled in the 
blue firmament, behind the mighty peak of Etna. 
It was not really dark, and it was quite possible 
to see the main outlines of most of the features 



THREE FIGURES FLUNG THEMSELVES UPON HIM 








































t 




» 







A Night of Adventure 253 

of the landscape. Everard walked along cheerily. 
So far he had met with no hindrance. The people 
at the fair had indeed looked at him with much 
curiosity, and had even spoken to him, but cer- 
tainly nobody had offered in any way to molest 
him. The dangers of Targia Vecchia at night- 
fall had evidently been grossly exaggerated. So 
confident was Everard that he even whistled a 
tune as he walked, and planned how he would 
stroll into the drawing-room on his return to Casa 
Bianca, slip the necklace from his pocket, and 
casually mention where he had been. In his pre- 
occupation he did not give any particular heed to 
the road, or see movement among the dark 
shadows of a group of prickly pears that over- 
hung a sharp corner. 

Without the slightest warning a pistol shot 
suddenly rang out, and three figures, springing 
from the shelter of the prickly pears, flung them- 
selves upon him. For a second he had a vision 
of cloaks and masked faces, and hit out pluckily, 
but they were three to one, and in a few moments 
they had secured him, bound his hands behind 
his back, and tied a bandage over his eyes. Al- 
most stunned at first by the suddenness of the 
attack, Everard, as soon as he recovered his 
speech, protested indignantly, and demanded of 
his assailants what they wanted. They spoke to- 
gether in rapid Italian, which he did not under- 


25 4 The Princess of the School 


stand, then one of them replied in very broken 
English : 

“ Signore, it is our order to take you to our 
captain.” 

“ And who is your captain? ” 

“ That I not tell.” 

“ And what does your captain want with me? ” 

“ He ask ransom. You rich Inglese. Prop- 
erty in your own country. You give many thou- 
sand lire ransom.” 

“Indeed I can’t!” protested Everard. 
“You’ve made a big mistake. I don’t own any 
property, and I’m not rich at all. You’d better 
let me go, or there’ll be trouble in store for you 
when my friends hear of it.” 

The brigands, if such they were, made no reply. 
Possibly they did not understand him. They 
were busy, moreover, searching his pockets, and 
were appropriating his watch, money, and other 
valuables with short grunts of satisfaction. 
Bound hand and foot, Everard could offer no 
physical resistance, though his bold spirit was rag- 
ing. At length his captors, having rifled all they 
wanted, untied his legs, and, taking him by the 
arms, hauled him along between them. Blind- 
fold as he was, he had no notion in what direction 
he was going, though they seemed to leave the 
main road, and to be taking a cross-country jour- 
ney over fields and rough ground. Were they 


A Night of Adventure 255 

taking him to the Castello, he wondered? It had 
been a noted haunt of brigands in bygone days, 
and its inaccessible position would make it a safe 
hiding-place. He asked himself what was going 
to happen. How soon would he be missed at the 
Casa Bianca? Would a search be made for him, 
and with what success? These fellows were often 
very crafty in their places of concealment, and 
had evidently got hold of some false idea of his 
rank and fortune. In that half-hour, Everard 
went through very severe mental as well as physi- 
cal discomfort. His captors were not too gentle, 
and hurried him along anyhow. They refused to 
answer any more of his questions, and, except for 
an occasional hoarse remark to one another in 
Italian, kept a rigid silence. 

After what seemed to him an interminable dis- 
tance, they apparently reached their destination, 
for he was dragged up a flight of steps into some 
building, whether prison, castle, or private dwell- 
ing he was unable to guess. A door was flung 
open, for a moment he heard an echo of voices, 
then all was silent. 

He was alone, though in what sort of apart- 
ment he had no means of judging. The floor felt 
smooth to his feet, as if made of tiles, and the 
walls also were smooth. His captors had not 
untied his hands, but he kept straining at the rope 
in the hope of freeing himself. Escape was the 


256 The Princess of the School 


uppermost notion in his mind. He had indeed so 
far succeeded in loosening his bonds that he could 
almost slip one hand out. At that crisis, how- 
ever, the door opened, and he was once more led 
forth. 

“Where are you taking me now?” he de- 
manded angrily. 

“ To our captain,” replied the same foreign 
voice which had given him his former information, 
while two strong pairs of arms pushed him along. 

Though his bandage was very thick, he could 
tell that he was passing from comparative dark- 
ness into a brilliantly lighted room. He had a 
strong sense that it was full of people. He even 
thought he heard a murmur of sympathy, which 
was, however, instantly suppressed. Everard’s 
was not a nature to be cowed by any circum- 
stances, however appalling. He meant to show 
this rascally crew that an Englishman never loses 
his pluck, and, in spite of the ropes that bound 
him, he stepped forward with all the courage and 
pride of a true Ingleton. 

“ Am I speaking to the captain? ” he said in a 
calm clear tone. “ Then, Signore, I wish to in- 
form you that you have made a mistake. I am no 
wealthy English landowner, as you can very soon 
find out for yourselves, and I may add that, if I 
were, I’d stay here to all eternity sooner than give 
you a penny of ransom! ” 


A Night of Adventure 257 

“Hurrah!” came from a voice close behind 
him, a voice which sounded so familiar that 
Everard, forgetting his bandage, turned in much 
perplexity. 

“ The Signore Inglese had better humble him- 
self to our captain,” murmured his guide. “ Re- 
member that here he has the power of life and 
death!” 

“I’ll humble myself to nobody!” thundered 
Everard, as angry as a lion at bay. “ Untie my 
hands, you cowards, and I’ll fight for my life ! If 
you’ve an ounce of pluck among you, you’ll give 
me a sporting chance ! ” 

“Ecco! E giusto!” said a fresh voice, pre- 
sumably that of the captain. “ Signore, you shall 
have your will ! ” 

At this a knife was passed rapidly through the 
ropes that bound him, and at the same moment a 
hand snatched the bandage from his eyes. Dazed 
with the sudden light, Everard stared round as 
one in a dream. He had expected to find himself 
in some rough hall surrounded by brigands, and, 
lo and behold, he was in the drawing-room at the 
Casa Bianca, in the midst of the united family! 

“ Forgive our rough joke, Everard! ” exclaimed 
Mr. Greville, clapping him heartily on the shoul- 
der. “ I had never intended to let it go so far. 
I thought a fight on the road would do you no 
harm, for there are dangers in Sicily to reckless 


258 The Princess of the School 

young strangers who like to run risks, and you 
might easily have found yourself in greater trouble 
than you imagine at Targia Vecchia, if I had 
not sent Tomaso to shadow you. The people 
down there know his reputation with a revolver, 
and don’t care to interfere. Never mind, lad! 
You came very well out of it! You certainly 
showed us what you were made of, just now. 
On the whole, I think you turned the tables on 
us ! ” 

Everard was still standing gazing round the 
room, at Ernesto and Vittore, who had been his 
captors, at Mr. Greville, at Aimee and Rosalia, 
who were laughing at the joke. He turned white 
and red with passion, and for the moment looked 
capable of knocking down Ernesto as he had 
threatened to treat the supposed brigands. A 
glance from Mr. Stacey, however, steadied him. 
Above everything Everard was a gentleman. By 
a supreme effort he controlled himself. 

“ I think it’s an abominable shame ! ” declared 
Carmel, turning upon Ernesto with blazing eyes. 
“ Daddy never meant you to bind him and bring 
him up here like that — only to frighten him for a 
minute on the road. You know he did! I’ll 
never forgive you, Ernesto! Never! If this 
is a specimen of our Sicilian hospitality, Everard 
won’t want to come to the Casa Bianca again! 
My cousins didn’t treat me to practical jokes at 


A Night of Adventure 259 

the Chase ! They gave me an English welcome ! ” 

“ Let me make peace! ” said Signora Greville, 
coming forward and taking Everard’s hand in her 
pretty Italian fashion. “ Our guest knows, I 
hope, that we meant no discourtesy to him. For 
all he has suffered we claim his pardon. Is it 
not so, Ernesto and Vittore? He has, indeed, 
shown us how a brave Englishman can behave in 
a position of danger, and we admire his courage. 
I think we ought to congratulate him on the splen- 
did way he has taken a joke which certainly went 
much farther than was intended.” 

At that, everybody crowded round Everard, 
making pretty speeches, for all realized that the 
mock adventure had been real enough to him at 
the time. 

“ I should faint if I thought I were taken by a 
brigand! ” shivered Aimee. 

“ I should die outright! ” declared Rosalia. 

“ Your property is back in your pocket with my 
sincere apologies,” murmured Vittore, restoring 
the watch and other valuables. 

It was not until the next morning that Everard 
had an opportunity to give Carmel the peasant 
necklace for which he had ventured down to 
Targia Vecchia. Her delight was immense. 

“ Why, it’s the very one I wanted! ” she ex- 
claimed. “ It will be the gem of my whole col- 
lection. I shall always call it the Brigand Neck- 


260 The Princess of the School 


lace, after this. You went through a great deal 
to bring it back, Everard! ” 

“ Oh, never mind ! That’s all over and finished 
with now. I’m going to forget it! ” 

“You may forget it, but I shan’t! I shall 
always remember how you called them cowards, 
and asked for a sporting chance. I must say I 
like men to be able to take care of themselves. 
As for Signor Ernesto, I haven’t forgiven him 
yet, and on the whole I’m not altogether quite sure 
that I ever shall! ” 


CHAPTER XIX 


At Palermo 

It was perhaps to atone for the indignities which 
Everard had suffered at the hands of Ernesto and 
Vittore, in the practical joke that they had played 
upon him, that Signor Trapani proposed to take 
the Ingletons for a few days’ trip to Palermo. 
He declared he could not allow them to leave 
Sicily without a peep at the famous capital city, 
and that in motoring there they could also see 
some of the sights upon the way. Though they 
were perfectly happy at Casa Bianca, a visit to 
Palermo was of course a great attraction, and the 
party, including Cousin Clare and Mr. Stacey, 
were all excitement and smiles. 

“ We’re to stay at an hotel,” announced Carmel, 
u and Ernesto and Vittore are to have dinner 
with us.” 

u And Douglas, too,” added Dulcie, .with satis- 
faction. “ I heard your uncle say he had asked 
him.” 

“ Oh, did he? I’m so glad. Now we shall 
have plenty of cavaliers to take us about. What 

261 


262 The Princess of the School 


fun it will be! You'll just love Palermo. I 
always sing a jubilee when Mother has a shopping 
expedition there and wants me to go with her.” 

“Hurrah for to-morrow, then!” proclaimed 
Dulcie. 

Taking only a little light 'luggage the lucky 
travelers packed themselves into two cars and 
set off on their pleasure-jaunt. Leaving the sea 
they turned inland to the mountain region, and 
with a short stop at Centuripe, to get the mag- 
nificent view of Etna, they motored on to Castro- 
giovanni, a wonderful old town set, like an eagle’s 
nest, on the very crest of a high hill, and full of 
relics of Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Saracens, 
and Normans, who had held its fortress in turns. 
It looked the real brigand stronghold of old 
stories, as impregnable as some of our Scottish 
castles and a fit subject for legend. 

One feature of the Sicilian landscape greatly 
struck the Ingletons. 

“ There are no cottages scattered about like we 
have in England,” remarked Lilias. “ Do the 
people who work in the fields all live in these little 
towns on the tops of hills? Why don’t they have 
their homes close to their work? ” 

“ It’s an old Sicilian custom,” explained Signor 
Trapani. “ In former days there were so many 
robbers that nobody would have dared to live 
alone in a cottage in the open country; even now 


At Palermo 


263 

it would scarcely be thought wise, and the peasants 
feel far safer at night in a town, with their neigh- 
bors to help to protect them and their valuables. 
A Sicilian peasant would rather walk many miles 
to his fields than run the risk of brigands stealing 
his savings. Nearly everybody keeps a few 
goats, and each morning the goatherd blows a 
horn and leads the flock of the whole town out 
to pasture. He keeps guard over them all day 
and brings them back in the evening, when each 
trots home to its own stable to be milked. The 
children often wait at the city gate to welcome 
the goats back, and you can see quite affectionate 
little meetings between them.” 

“ Kids welcoming kids!” murmured Dulcie, 
who clung to schoolgirl slang, rather to the con- 
sternation of Signor Trapani, who did not always 
understand it, and much to the indignation of 
Cousin Clare, who was continually urging her to 
speak pure English. 

From Castrogiovanni the way lay down hill to 
Palermo, which they reached in the evening, just 
when a golden sunset was lighting up its eastern- 
looking houses, its beautiful gardens, and mag- 
nificent harbor. Ernesto, Vittore, and Douglas 
were waiting for them at the hotel, so they made 
a jolly party of ten at dinner, and had a round 
tabie all to themselves in the salle a manger . 
Signor Trapani, in his enthusiasm as host, even 


264 The Princess of the School 

suggested the theater afterwards, but Cousin 
Clare said u No,” after such a long motor run, 
and sent the girls off to bed. 

“ They may go .and see an Italian play to- 
morrow evening, if you don’t work them too hard 
at sight-seeing during the day,” she relented, u but 
remember, I want to keep the roses in their cheeks, 
and Lilias, at any rate, must not get overdone. 
I’m the stern chaperon, you know.” 

“ So I understand,” laughed Signor Trapani, 
“ though such a charming lady cannot make a very 
terrible duenna, and we are not at all frightened 
of you,” he added, finishing, like every true Italian, 
with a compliment. 

Lilias, Dulcie, and Carmel had three small beds 
in a room that led out of Cousin Clare’s. 
Though they had pretended to be disappointed 
at not being allowed to go to the theater, in reality 
they were all extremely tired and glad to rest. 
Dulcie in particular snuggled down on her pillow 
and was asleep even before Lilias turned off the 
electric light. The others were not long in fol- 
lowing suit, and in a short time all were in the 
land of dreams. 

It was perhaps two o’clock in the morning when 
Lilias awoke in the darkness with a start. Her 
bed was shaking violently under her, as it had 
done once long ago, when Everard in his school- 
days had played a trick upon her. There was a 


At Palermo 


265 


loud rumbling noise, like the passing of a gigantic 
motor-lorry or a railway train, the jugs and basins 
were rattling, and a glass of water, placed on the 
edge of the table, fell to the ground wfith a smash. 

“ What is it? Oh, what’s the matter? ” cried 
Lilias, terribly scared. 

She put out her hand and tried to turn on the 
electric light, but she moved the switch in vain, 
Carmel, who had groped for the matches, lighted 
a candle, and by the time the welcome little 
yellow flame showed itself, the shaking and 
rumbling had entirely ceased. Lilias looked 
anxiously round the room. 

“ What’s the matter?” she asked again. 

“Only an earthquake!” said Carmel calmly. 
“ It’s over now.” 

“An earthquake! ” Lilias’s voice was tragic. 

“ Just a slight shock. We often have them.” 

“O-o-h! Will the walls tumble down?” 

“ Certainly not — it only makes the china rat- 
tle.” 

By this time Cousin Clare, also unaccustomed to 
earthquakes and almost as alarmed as Lilias, came 
into the room. Carmel pacified them both, as- 
suring them that such tremors were of quite com- 
mon occurrence, and that people in Sicily thought 
little about them unless they were severe enough 
to do damage. 

All this time Dulcie’s pink cheek was buried in 


266 The Princess of the School 


the pillow, and her breath came as quietly and 
evenly as that of a baby. 

u I’m glad she didn’t wake. She was very 
tired, poor child,” commented Cousin Clare, after 
a glance at the bed in the corner. 

Dulcie was, of course, unmercifully teased next 
morning for having slept through an earthquake. 

“ If Etna shot its cone off during the night I 
don’t believe it would wake you ! ” laughed Ever- 
ard. “ The Seven Sleepers are nothing to you.” 

“ Go on! Rag me as much as you like. I 
don’t care,” declared Dulcie sturdily. “ I think 
I had far the best of it. You were all awake and 
scared, while I was snug and comfy. I shall sleep 
through the next if we have one. Ashamed of 
myself? Not a bit of it! I tell you I’m proud” 
Everybody was looking forward to a day’s 
sight-seeing in Palermo, and as soon as breakfast 
was over the party started out to view the cathe- 
dral, the beautiful Palatine chapel, with its Sara- 
cen arches and priceless mosaics, and the ancient 
oriental-looking Norman church of S. Giovanni 
degli Eremite. Dulcie, who had been learning 
Longfellow’s Robert of Sicily for her last recita- 
tion in the elocution class at school, was much 
thrilled, and wanted to know in which of the 
churches he had made his famous defiance of 
Heaven, and had been turned from his throne 
by the angel, who temporarily took his place as 


At Palermo 


267 


king till he repented of his vain glory. Nobody 
could tell her, however, and the guide-book gave 
no information on the subject, though Douglas 
obligingly searched its pages. Knowing she loved 
old legends about the places, he found another 
item of interest for her in connection with one 
of the ancient towers of S. Giovanni degli Eremite. 
It was from there that in the Middle Ages, when 
the French ruled the island, a vesper bell had 
tolled the signal for the inhabitants to rise and fall 
upon their cruel masters in a massacre that was 
known ever afterwards as “ The Sicilian Ves- 
pers.” 

“ Bells have never been rung in Sicily since,” 
said Douglas, then as Dulcie’s eyebrows went up 
in amazed contradiction he explained: “ They are 
never really rung here. In most countries the 
bells swing backwards and forwards, but in our 
churches they are quite steady, and only the clap- 
per moves about inside the bell.” 

“ Oh, that’s why they sound so frightfully 
clangy, then; we noticed the difference at once 
when we came over from Malta.” 

“ Yes, you would. The church bells of Malta 
are the most beautiful in the world. They’re 
partly made of silver, and they swing properly 
in the belfries.” 

“ I love to see really Sicilian things.” 

“ Then you shall,” put in Signor Trapani. 


268 The Princess of the School 


“ We’ll try and show you the local color of 
Palermo to-day.” 

u Oh, please do ! I like to watch how the 
people live.” 

In order to keep his promise to Dulcie, Signor 
Trapani took his guests to have lunch at a res- 
taurant near the harbor, where, instead of the 
usual French menu which obtained at all the 
hotels, purely Sicilian dishes were served. First 
came a species of marine soup, that consisted of 
tiny star-fish and cuttle-fish stewed till they were 
very tender, then smothered in white sauce. 
Slices of tunny fish followed, almost as substantial 
as beefsteak, then some goats flesh, that closely 
resembled mutton, and with it a vegetable called 
fennel, which is rather like celery with a dash of 
aniseed about it. The salad, chiefly of endive, 
was smothered in Lucca oil and Tarragon vinegar, 
and there was an entree that seemed made mostly 
of butter and cheese. 

Dulcie, daunted by nothing, ate each new dish 
and said she enjoyed it, though Lilias and Cousin 
Clare could not be induced even to taste the un- 
accustomed food, and lunched on omelettes which 
were ordered specially for their benefit. Mr. 
Stacey and Everard, however, were hearty con- 
verts to Sicilian cookery, and declared they would 
like some of the courses introduced at the Chase 
when they returned to England. 


At Palermo 


269 


As good luck would have it Dulcie was just 
stepping out of the restaurant when she heard a 
familiar, squeaking voice, and on the other side 
of the road saw a Sicilian Punch and Judy show. 

Naturally she demanded to stop and witness 
the representation. Mr. Punchinello, though his 
speeches were in Italian, went through the same 
series of wicked deeds as in England, and little 
dog Toby, with a frill round his neck, assisted in 
the performance. Dulcie was delighted, and was 
persuaded to get into the waiting motor only by 
bribes of seeing even more interesting sights. 

The lovely public gardens, the shops, the mar- 
ket, the university where Ernesto, Vittore, and 
Douglas were studying, the museum, and various 
beautiful spots in the neighborhood of the city 
were all visited during the Ingletons’ brief stay 
at Palermo, and they celebrated the last evening 
by a visit to the theater, where, if they could not 
understand the words of the play, the dramatic 
foreign acting spoke for itself. 

“ Has my little English signorina enjoyed her 
trip?” asked Signor Trapani kindly, as Dulcie, 
sitting by his side in the car, waved an enthusiastic 
good-by to Palermo. 

“Enjoyed it! i?#ther? It’s the loveliest 
place on earth, and beats London hollow in my 
opinion. But I do love everything Sicilian so 
much ! Thanks just immensely for giving me 


270 The Princess of the School 

such a perfectly delicious time ! ” declared Dulcie, 
screwing her neck round to catch a last glimpse 
of Ernesto, Vittore, and Douglas, who stood by 
the roadside fluttering handkerchiefs as a signal 
of farewell. 


CHAPTER XX 


Old England 

The holiday in Sicily, like all pleasant things, 
came to an end at last, and the Ingleton family, 
leaving the Casa Bianca with many regrets, re- 
turned to their own country in time to welcome 
Roland, Bevis, and Clifford back from school for 
Easter. Carmel, who had seemed keenly to feel 
the parting from her mother, and who had been 
so quiet on the journey that her cousins suspected 
a bad attack of homesickness, cheered up 
when they were once more settled at the Chase. 
The beauties of the English country-side, with 
plum-blossom, primroses, cowslips, green mea- 
dows, and budding woodlands, compared very 
favorably with even the lovely Sicilian landscape, 
and Carmel acknowledged frankly that Cheverley 
had a charm all of its own. 

“ I never knew how much I loved it till I left 
it, and then saw it again !” she declared. 
“ There’s something about the place that grips.” 

“ Your Ingleton blood showing, of course,” re- 
marked Everard. “ All your ancestors have lived 
271 


272 The Princess of the School 


at the Chase, and It would be queer if you hadn’t 
some sort of a natural feeling for it. People 
mostly have for the place where their ancestors 
were born.” 

“ Indeed! I believe my ancestors were all of 
them born in bed, so no doubt that’s why I have 
such a natural feeling for bed, and don’t want to 
get up in the mornings! ” piped Dulcie, who never 
could resist a quip at Everard. “ I don’t despise 
Old England, but Sicily’s the land for me, and I’m 
going back to Montallesso some day. Aunt Nita 
says so ! Lilias can please herself, but, as soon as 
Mr. Bowden lets me leave school, I shall say 4 Ta- 
ta ! I’m off to the land of oranges and lemons ! ’ ” 

“ And in the meantime you’ll have to make up 
at school for this long holiday,” reminded Cousin 
Clare. “ I’m afraid you’ll find yourself terribly 
behindhand when you get back to Chilcombe ! ” 

The occupants of the Blue Grotto had much to 
talk about when they met again. 

“ It was hateful having the dor. all to our- 
selves,” confided Gowan. “ We never had such a 
slow time m our lives. We had a fearful scare, 
too ! We thought Miss Walters was going to put 
Laurette with us! She’d had a terrible quarrel 
with Truie and Hester, and things were rather 
hot in the Gold bedroom. Fortunately, however, 
they cooled down, and patched up their quarrels. 
Bertha and I were simply shaking, though. I 


273 


Old England 

heard Miss Walters say to Laurette: ‘There’s a 
spare bed at present in the Blue room/ and we 
thought she was moving in for the rest of the 
term! Think of being boxed up with Laurette! 
Wouldn’t it have been absolutely grisly? ” 

“ Nothing at all particularly exciting happened 
while you were away! ” groused Bertha. “We 
got all the drudgery, and you had all the fun ! ” 
“But we brought you some presents! Just 
wait till I get to the bottom of my box! ” put in 
Carmel. 

“Oh, have you?” cried Bertha excitedly. 
“What have you brought? Don’t stop to ar- 
range those blouses ! Dump your things out any- 
how: I can’t wait! I’ve never had a foreign 
present in my life before. O-o-oh ! What an 
absolutely ducky little locket! Carmel, you’re a 
darling! You couldn’t have given me anything 
in the whole of this wide world that I should have 
liked better. I just love it ! ” 

Though the Ingletons’ immediate friends at 
Chilcombe had been rather inclined to look with 
the green eyes of envy upon their long holiday in 
Sicily, and consequent immunity from Easter ex- 
aminations, they were mollified by the pretty gifts 
which the girls had brought them, and while they 
still proclaimed them “ luckers out of all reason,” 
they forgave them their good fortune, and re- 
ceived them back once more into the bosom of 


274 The Princess of the School 

their special clique. The Mafia had indeed lan- 
guished considerably during their absence. No- 
body had troubled very much to keep up its activi- 
ties, and it had held only one or two half-hearted 
meetings. Now that its nine members were to- 
gether again, however, the secret society set to 
work with renewed vigor. Insensibly it had 
rather altered its scope. It had begun originally 
for the purpose of resisting the aggressions of 
Laurette, Hester, and Truie, but had grown into 
a sort of confraternity for private fun. The 
meetings held in each other’s dormitories were of 
a hilarious description, and included games. At 
Gowan’s suggestion they even went a step farther, 
and produced literary contributions — “ of a 
sort,” as she wisely qualified the rather appalling 
innovation. 

“ I don’t mean exactly Shakespeare, you know,” 
she explained. “ But you can write poetry if you 
care to, or make up something funny like Punch . 
Everybody has got to do something! ” 

“ Not really? ” objected Dulcie, wrinkling her 
forehead into lines of acute distress. “ Oh, 
Goody! It’s as bad as lessons every bit. Look 
here, I’m not clever, and I don’t make any pre- 
tence at poetry or the rest of it. You’ll just have 
to leave me out.” 

“ Pull yourself together, Dulcie, my child!” 
said Gowan calmly. “ You’ll either be turned 


Old England 275 

bodily out of the Mafia, or you’ll do your bit the 
same as everybody else. Don’t for a moment 
imagine you’re coming to listen to other people’s 
industry, and bring nothing of your own with you ! 
That’s not the way we manage things here. If 
you don’t show up with a manuscript in your hand, 
you’ll find yourself walking down the passage with 
the door slammed behind you. Yes, I mean it! 
You’re a decent enough little person, but you’re 
apt to be slack. You must get some stiffening 
into you this time.” 

“ Poor little me ! ” wailed Dulcie. 

“ No poorer than all the rest of us! ” 

“ Yes, I am, for I haven’t got the same thingum- 
bobs in my brains ! Couldn’t make up poetry to 
save my life! May I write a letter? ” 

“ Why, yes, if you’d rather ! ” 

“ I feel it would be my most adequate form of 
self-expression,” minced Dulcie, mimicking Miss 
Walters’ very best literary manner. “ I trust my 
contribution will be kept for publication. Later 
on, when I’m famous, it may become of value. 
The world will never forget that I was educated 
at Chilcombe Hall. A neat brass plate will some 
day be placed upon the door of the Blue Grotto 
to mark the dormitory I slept in, and my bed will 
be preserved in the local museum ! ” 

“With you (stuffed) inside it, labeled ‘Speci- 
men of a Champion Slacker ’ ! ” snorted Gowan. 


27 6 The Princess of the School 


“ Now, no nonsense ! If you don’t turn up at the 
meeting with a manuscript, you won’t be ad- 
mitted! ” 

“ Bow-wow! How very severe we’ve grown, 
all of a sudden! ” mocked Dulcie, as she danced 
away. “ You take it for granted,” she called 
over her shoulder, “ that my contribution is going 
to mark the literary low tide. Perhaps, after all, 
it will make as big an impression as anybody 
else’s. There!” 

On the evening fixed for the meeting, nine girls 
put in an appearance at the Blue Grotto, all flaunt- 
ing manuscripts in a very conspicuous fashion. 
They seated themselves upon Bertha’s and Dul- 
cie’s beds, and having as a kind of foregone con- 
clusion, elected Gowan as President of the Cere- 
monies, got straight to business. Gowan was 
justice personified, and fearful of even uninten- 
tional favoritism, she insisted upon the company 
drawing lots for the order in which their effusions 
were to be read. The Fates decided thus: Car- 
mel, Noreen, Edith, Lilias, Gowan, Bertha, 
Prissie, Phillida, Dulcie. 

Carmel, hustled off the bed to be given first 
hearing, took the chair of honor reserved for each 
literary star in turn, and having waited a moment 
to allow undue giggling to subside, opened her 
sheets of exercise paper and began: 


277 


Old England 

“ OLD ENGLAND 

“ I never can quite see why it is called 4 Old ’ England, 
because I don’t suppose it is any older than any other part 
of the world, really, but perhaps 4 Old ’ is a term of en- 
dearment, because I notice when any girl likes me, she 
generally calls me 4 old sport,’ or 4 old thing.’ Well, at 
any rate here I am back in Old England, and it is a won- 
derfully nice sort of a country. I specially like the police- 
men, who wave their white gloves and stop all the traffic 
in the street in a second, and the railway porters who yell 
out the names of the stations, and the little boys who cry 
the newspapers. There are no beggars in Old England 
like there are in Sicily, and no mosquitoes, and no earth- 
quakes. At least not proper ones. I thought we were all 
beggars when we tried to raise money for the 4 Waifs and 
Strays ’ ; Bertha buzzes worse than any mosquito when 
she wants to borrow my penknife, and I thought there 
was an earthquake the last time Laurette danced. 

44 I like all the old houses and castles and cathedrals in 
Old England, and especially the old gardens. What I 
don’t like are my old lessons. Old England is a jolly, 
hospitable, comfortable, green sort of country, and I am 
quite at home here now, so hurrah! Old England for 
ever! ” 

Carmel, having read her manuscript as rapidly 
as possible, vacated the chair in a breathless con- 
dition, and pushed Noreen into her place. 
Noreen had been struggling with Pegasus, and 
had produced a spring poem. It was short, but 
perhaps a trifle over-sweet. 


278 The Princess of the School 

“ TO MY DEARIE-OH ! 

il Spring is comen back again, 

(Daisy buds for my dearie!) 

Gone is winter’s snow and rain, 

(Cherry lips for my dearie!) 

Blossom clothes the orchards now, 

(Apple cheeks for my dearie!) 

Nests of birds on every bough, 

(And kisses for my dearie!) 

“ It’s one of those old-fashioned sort of things 
— I believe you call them madrigals,” she ven- 
tured. 

Nobody else knew what a madrigal was, so they 
took Noreen’s word for it, and allowed her to re- 
tire in favor of Edith, who had also been trying 
to cultivate the muse of poetry. Her effort at 
verse was entitled : 


“ MIRANDA’S MUSIC 

“ Miranda had learnt the piano to play, 

And when seated one day on the stool, 

At her latest new piece she was strumming away, 

For old Thomas, who sweeps out the school. 

“ Thought she: ‘ ’T will impress him if anything will, 
For the left hand goes over the right. 

He will surely admire my exquisite skill, 

And perhaps will express his delight.’ 


Old England 279 

“ But ah ! fondest hopes may be dashed to the ground, 
Despite what ambition can raise. 

Ill pleased by this banquet of beautiful sound, 

Old Thomas was scant in his praise. 

“ 4 Ay, ay, yes, I hear. ’T is not bad, to be sure ! 

They may teach you in time ! ’ so he grumbled. 

But ’twas plain that he thought the performance but 
poor, 

And Miranda felt terribly humbled. 

“ One morn when six months had swift glided away, 
Again at the instrument seated, 

Miranda a nocturne had just ceased to play, 

When old Thomas desired it repeated. 

“ ‘ Why, Miss/ he declared, ‘ I can hardly believe 
That you’ve made such improvement so soon! 

The last time you played, you/d to jump your hand o’er 
Before you could pick out the tune ! 

“ 4 You’d humpety lump in the treble at top, 

Then same hand would return to the bass. 

But now I can see they have taught you to keep 
Each hand in its own proper place! ’ 

“ It’s a really true story! ” persisted Edith, as 
the girls giggled. “ It happened to my sister. 
She always plays at the Band of Hope concerts in 
our village at home, and she goes down to the 
school to practice her solos on the piano there. 
Old Thomas is the verger, and he’s such a queer 
old character. He really did think she didn’t 


28o The Princess of the School 


know how to play properly when she crossed her 
hands over, and he told her so. It was a tre- 
mendous joke in our family, because Maisie con- 
siders herself musical. She was squashed abso- 
lutely flat ! ” 

Neither Lilias, Gowan, Bertha, Prissie, nor 
Phillida had written anything very original or 
outstanding in their manuscripts, so we will pass 
them over, and only record that of Dulcie, who 
came last of all. She took the honored seat with 
a great air of empressement y nodded triumph- 
antly to Gowan, cleared her throat, commanded 
strict silence, and began: 


“ Chilcombe Hall. 

“ MV DEAR EVERARD, 

“ I must write at once and tell you of the 
terrible things that have been happening at this school. 
On Monday last the cook made a mistake, and used a 
packet of rat poison instead of sugar in our pudding. It 
was the day for ginger puddings, and we all thought they 
tasted rather queer, somehow, but it is not etiquette here 
to leave anything on your plate, so we made an effort and 
finished our rations. Well, about ten minutes afterwards 
most of us were taken with umpteen fits. We writhed 
about the room in agony, and thought our last hour had 
come. The doctor was sent for, and he motored over so 
fast that he killed two little boys and a cow on the road, 
but he said he did not care, and it was all in the way of 
business. He stood us up in a line and gave us each an 
emetic of mustard and water which was very horrid, and 


28 i 


Old England 

felt like a poultice inside. We are beginning to get bet- 
ter now, but Carmel's legs are stiff, and she has a tend- 
ency to go black in the face every now and then. The 
doctor says she will do so for a fortnight, until the rat 
poison wears itself out of her system. He does not think 
she will be lame always. At least he hopes not. Lilias 
squints a little in consequence of the umpteen fits she had, 
which turned her eyes round, and my face is still swollen, 
and three front teeth dropped out, but otherwise we are 
quite well, and the Doctor says things might have been 
much worse, for at least our lives were spared. I think 
we ought to see a specialist, but Miss Walters won’t hear 
of it. 

“ Hoping you are quite well, 

“ With love, 

“ Your affectionate sister 

“ Dulcie.” 

“ Don’t say I can’t write fiction! ” proclaimed 
Dulcie, making a grimace at Gowan. u It’s as 
good as a novel (though I say it myself) and as 
interesting as anything in a newspaper. Improb- 
able? Not at all! Cooks make mistakes some- 
times, like other people! I don’t exactly know 
the symptoms of rat poisoning, but I dare say they 
are very much what I’ve described. It’s thrilling 
reading, anyhow, and you ought to give me a good 
clap for it.” 

“Tootle-too! Somebody has lost a trum- 
peter!” returned Gowan. 


282 The Princess of the School 


“ I don’t care ! I’m sure if we took votes for 
the most thrills, my piece would win. I’m going 
to keep it! Hand it back to me, Gowan ! I want 
to show it to Everard some time. He’d laugh 
ever so over it. He says my home letters are 
tame. This would wake him up, at any rate ! 
He’d say his sister was breaking out into an 
authoress! What sport!” 


CHAPTER XXI 


Carmel’s Kingdom 

The day following the secret meeting of the 
Mafia was one of those devoted to home corre- 
spondence. The girls were alloted forty min- 
utes during school hours: they brought their 
writing-cases into the class-room, and scribbled off 
as many letters as possible during the brief time 
allowed. On this particular Wednesday Dulcie 
was much in arrears; she wrote three letters to 
Sicily, one to an aunt in London, a short scrawl 
to Everard, and was beginning u My dear Cousin 
Clare,” when Miss Hardy entered the room in a 
hurry. 

“ Jones has to leave half an hour earlier,” she 
announced, “ and he wants to take the post-bag 
now. Be quick, girls, and give me your letters! ” 

A general scramble of finishing and stamping 
ensued. Dulcie, who had not addressed her en- 
velopes, folded her loose sheets anyhow, and 
trusted to luck that the foreign letters were not 
over-weght. 

“ I can’t help it if they have to pay extra on 
283 


284 The Princess of the School 


them,” she confided to Carmel. “ They look 
rather heavy, certainly, but I hadn’t any thin note 
paper, you see.” 

“ Douglas will pay up cheerfully, I’m sure! ” 

“ How do you know that his was a heavy one? ” 

“ Oh, I can guess ! ” 

“ I was only answering a number of questions 
he asked me. It’s very unkind not to answer 
people’s questions! ” 

“ Most decidedly! I quite agree with you! ” 
laughed Carmel. 

The letters were posted in Glazebrook that eve- 
ning by the factotum Jones, and Dulcie, though 
her thoughts might possibly follow the particular 
heavy envelope addressed to Montalesso, dis- 
missed her other items of correspondence com- 
pletely from her mind. She was taking a run 
round the garden the next morning at eleven 
o’clock “ break,” when to her immense surprise 
she heard a trotting of horse’s hoofs on the drive, 
and who should appear but Everard, riding 
Rajah. The rules at Chilcombe Hall were strict. 
No visits were allowed, even from brothers, with- 
out special permission from Miss Walters. 
Hitherto Everard had come over only by express 
invitation from the headmistress, and this had 
been given sparingly, at discreet intervals, and 
always for the afternoon. Surely some most un- 
usual circumstance must have brought him to 


Carmel’s Kingdom 285 

school at the early hour of eleven in the morning? 
Dulcie flew across the lawn, calling his name. At 
the sight of his sister Everard dismounted, and 
greeted her eagerly. 

“Hello! How are you? How’s Carmel?” 
he began. “ I say, you know, this has been a 
shocking business! You look better than I ex- 
pected” (scanning her face narrowly). “ It’s a 
mercy you aren’t all under the daisies ! Is Car- 
mel really lame ? What about those fits ? I came 
directly I read your letter. A specialist must be 
sent for at once ! I can’t understand Miss 
Walters taking it so lightly. We ought to have 
been told at once, directly it happened.” 

As Everard poured forth these remarks, Dul- 
cie’s expression underwent several quick changes, 
and passed from astonishment to sudden compre- 
hension and mirth. 

“We’re better, thanks! ” she choked. “And 
Carmel can hobble about quite well on her 
crutches, and her face isn’t very black now, not 
like it was at first, though of course she still has 
the fits pretty regularly, and the Doctor 
says ” 

But at that moment her mendacious statement 
was contradicted by Carmel herself, who came 
running over the lawn with an agility that put 
crutches out of all question, and a complexion 
that was certainly in no way spoilt. 


286 The Princess of the School 


It was EverarcTs turn to look amazed. He 
glanced in much perplexity from his cousin, radi- 
ant and apparently in the best of health, to his 
sister, who was almost speechless with laughter. 

“ You never actually believed my letter about 
the rat poison? ” exploded Dulcie. “ I explained 
that it was written for our literary evening. I 
told you, Everard, I only sent it on for you to 
read because it sounded so funny, and I was rather 
proud of it ! ” 

“ You told me nothing of the sort ! ” 

“ Oh, but I did indeed ! Unless — ” (suddenly 
sobering down) , u unless I forgot to put my other 
letter into the envelope, and only sent you the 
rat-poison one! I was in such a hurry! Oh, 
good-night! Isn’t it just like me! Poor old 
Everard, I never meant to give you such a scare ! 
I’m frightfully sorry! Umpteen apologies!” 

“Then is the whole business fiction?” de- 
manded her brother, with knitted, brows. 

“ Oh, Everard, don’t be angry! ” implored Car- 
mel. “Dulcie didn’t mean to rag you! We 
were having a jolly evening, and each of us had 
to write something — the funnier the better — 
and that was Dulcie’s contribution. She said she 
was going to send it to you to make you laugh, but 
of course she meant to put in her other letter to 
explain that this was only nonsense. But Miss 
Hardy came in such a hurry, and whisked all our 


Carmel’s Kingdom 287 

letters off before we had time to read them over, 
or hardly to put them in the right envelopes. So 
you know it was just an accident.” 

44 I rode over at once to see what was the mat- 
ter! ” 

Everard’s voice still sounded offended, though 
slightly mollified. 

44 I know you did, and it was ever so kind of 
you. I’m only sorry you should have all the 
trouble. It’s been nice to see you, though, and 
we do thank you for coming.” 

44 It must be a relief to find we don’t squint or 
hobble on crutches,” added Dulcie naughtily. 
u How shall we explain to Miss Walters if she 
catches you? ” 

“I’d better be going!” declared Everard. 
44 Isn’t that your school-bell ringing? Well, I’m 
glad at any rate to find you all right. Shan’t dare 
to believe any of your letters in future, Dulcie! 

€i 1 Matilda told such awful lies, 

It made you gasp and stretch your eyes. 

Her aunt, who from her earliest youth 
Had kept a strict regard for truth, 

Attempted to believe Matilda — 

The effort very nearly killed her.’ 

44 Good-by, Carmel ! Keep my bad young sister in 
order if you can. She needs some one to look 
after her.” And Everard, with a hand on Rajah’s 


288 The Princess of the School 


bridle, nodded smilingly after the girls as they ran 
towards the house in response to the clanging 
school-bell. 

The rest of the summer term at Chilcombe Hall 
seemed to pass very rapidly away, and the space 
in this book is not enough to tell all that the girls 
did during those weeks of June sunshine and July 
heat. There were tennis tournaments and arch- 
ery contests, cricket matches, picnics and straw- 
berry feasts, as well as the more sober business of 
lessons, examinations, and a concert to which 
parents were invited. To Carmel it was the 
pleasantest term she had spent at school, for she 
had settled down now into English ways, and did 
not so continually feel the call of her Sicilian 
home. The u Hostage,” as Dulcie still sometimes 
laughingly called her, if she pined for the Casa 
Bianca, had contrived to make herself happy in 
her northern surroundings, and had won favor 
with everybody. School girls do not often make 
a fuss, but, when breaking-up day arrived, and the 
Ingletons drove away in their car, a chorus of 
cheers followed them from the doorstep, and, 
though the hoorays were given to all three without 
discrimination, there is no doubt that they were 
mainly intended for Carmel. 

“ She’s a sport ! ” said Gowan, waving in reply 
to the white handkerchief that fluttered a farewell. 
“ I don’t know any chum I like better. She 


Carmel’s Kingdom 289 

always plays the game somehow, doesn’t she? ” 

“ Rather! ” agreed Noreen. “ I think the way 
she’s taken her place at Cheverley Chase without 
cuckooing all that family out, or making them 
jealous, is just marvelous. If anybody deserves 
her kingdom, it’s Princess Carmel; it’s only one in 
a thousand who could have done what she has.” 

Carmel, indeed, though an unacknowledged 
sovereign, had managed to win all hearts at the 
Chase. Even Lilias did not now resent the own- 
ership of one who so rarely urged her own claims; 
insensibly she had grown fond of her cousin, and 
liked her company. 

The summer holiday promised to be as pleas- 
ant as that of last Christmas. Mr. Stacey, who 
had taken his vacation in June and July, had re- 
turned to Cheverley in time to greet Roland, 
Bevis, and Clifford, a welcome state of affairs to 
Cousin Clare, for the three lively boys were almost 
beyond her management, and needed the kindly 
authority which the tutor knew so well how to 
wield without friction. All sorts of plans for en- 
joyment were in the air, a visit to the sea, a motor 
tour, a garden party, a tennis tournament, a cricket 
match, even a dance at the Chase, when one day 
something quite unexpected occurred, something 
which changed the entire course of events, and 
threw the thoughts of the holiday makers into a 
new channel. Like many extraordinary happen- 


290 The Princess of the School 

ings, it came about in quite an ordinary way. 

Carmel had left her despatch case at school — a 
small matter, indeed, but fraught with big conse- 
quences. As she wanted some convenient safe 
spot in which to deposit note paper, old letters, 
sealing wax, stamps, and other such treasures, 
Cousin Clare allowed her to take possession of a 
writing-desk which stood on the study table. It 
had belonged to old Mr. Ingleton, and he had 
indeed used it till the day before his death, but it 
had been emptied of its contents by Mr. Bowden, 
and was now placed merely as an ornament in the 
window. It was a large, old-fashioned desk of 
rosewood, handsomely inlaid with brass, and lined 
with purple velvet. Carmel seized upon it joy- 
fully, and began to transfer some of her many 
belongings to its hospitable depths. It was well 
fitted, for there was an ink-pot with a silver top, 
and a pen-box containing a seal and a silver pen. 
Mr. Bowden had left these when he removed the 
papers, probably considering them as part and 
parcel of the desk. Carmel lifted out the ink-pot 
to admire its cover, but, though it came out fairly 
easily, it was a difficult matter to fit it in again. 
In pushing it back into its place she pulled heavily 
upon the small wooden division between its socket 
and the pen-box. To her utter surprise, her 
action released a spring, a long narrow panel 
below the pen-box fell away, and revealed a quite 


Carmel’s Kingdom 291 

unsuspected secret drawer. She opened it in much 
excitement. Inside lay a folded sheet of foolscap 
paper. Her exclamation had called Lilias and 
Dulcie from the other side of the room, and all 
three girls admired and wondered at the contriv- 
ance of the secret drawer. Together they took 
out the sheet of paper, unfolded it, and bent their 
heads over it. 

“ Why, it’s Grandfather’s writing! ” exclaimed 
Lilias as she read the first words: — 

“ This is the last will and testament of me 
Leslie Ingleton of Cheverley Chase near Balder- 
ton.” 

“ It’s surely not another will? ” fluttered Dulcie. 

Carmel said nothing; her eyes were devouring 
the contents of the paper. She read it through 
carefully to the end, then she asked: 

“ What was the date of the will in which Grand- 
father left the Chase to me? Was it not some 
time in January? Well, this is certainly a later 
date. It must have been signed the very day 
before he died! ” 

“ Does it make any difference? ” inquired Dulcie 
breathlessly. 

Carmel had taken the paper away from her 
cousins, and stood in the window mastering the 
meaning of the legal language. She read a certain 
passage over and over again carefully before she 
answered. Then she looked out through the 


292 The Princess of the School 

study window — that window with its wonderful 
view over the whole range of the Ingleton prop- 
erty — she gazed at the gardens and woods and 
fields that for more than a year had been hers, 
and hers alone, the estate which to claim as heiress 
she had been brought from her Sicilian home. 

“ All the difference in the world,” she said 
quietly. “ Grandfather changed his mind at the 
last, and left the Chase to Everard after all ! ” 
“To Everard?” 

“Oh, Carmel!” 

“ Are you certain? ” 

“ Can there be any mistake? ” 

“Is the will properly signed? Let me look! 
Yes, it seems signed and witnessed, as far as I can 
tell!” 

“ What are you going to do? ” 

“ Shall I ring up Mr. Bowden? ” 

“ Not yet, please,” begged Carmel. “ Leave 
me a moment ! ” 

She was still standing gazing out through the 
window over the English woods and meadows that 
she had grown to love so dearly, those wide acres 
of which any one might have been proud. At 
last she turned round and answered: 

“ I am going now to tell the news to the right- 
ful owner of the Chase.” 

Everard was sitting in the stone summer-house 
in the garden, struggling with a difficult problem 



I . 




m 




* 


































































































* 

♦ 






























































































































































































































































Carmel’s Kingdom 293 

in mathematics, when suddenly through the ivy- 
framed doorway danced Princess Carmel, an ex- 
cited vision, with carnation cheeks, and dark eyes 
twinkling like stars. She stopped on the thresh- 
old and dropped him a pretty curtsey, then a 
great generous light seemed to shine in her face as 
she announced : 

“ Signor Everard, allow me to hand you back 
your inheritance ! ” 

It was the triumph of her life. 

Mr. Bowden, on being sent for to examine the 
will, found all in perfect order. The legacies to 
friends and to the other grandchildren were ex- 
actly the same as in the former will, the only dif- 
ference being that the positions of the two cousins 
were reversed, Carmel receiving a handsome sum 
of money, and Everard inheriting the property. 
There was no doubt that the impetuous old squire 
had repented his hasty decision, but not liking to 
confess such weakness to the family lawyer, had 
drawn up his own will and hidden it in the secret 
drawer of his desk. Possibly he himself was not 
sure which of the two documents he wished to 
stand, and had kept this in reserve while he 
vacillated. Fate, for a year and a half, had de- 
cided in favor of Carmel, then the eternal balance 
had swung slowly back. 

“ It seems such a pity that the desk wasn’t 


294 The Princess of the School 

searched properly at first,” said Lilias to Cousin 
Clare. “ Think of all the trouble it would have 
prevented if we had only known about that secret 
drawer. Poor Everard! How much he would 
have been saved ! ” 

“ And how immensely much he would have 
lost! ” said Cousin Clare. “ This testing-time of 
character has been Everard’s salvation. He is 
very different now from the thoughtless, self- 
important boy who looked at everything from his 
own point of view. He has learnt some* of life’s 
stern lessons, and will make a far better owner 
of the Chase than would have been possible with- 
out passing through these experiences. I think he 
realizes that for himself, and would not wish to 
change anything that has happened.” 

Now that the new will was proved, and Chever- 
ley Chase was no longer her property, arose the 
immediate question of Carmel’s future. She set- 
tled it at once for herself, and in spite of all 
entreaties to remain in England, decided to return 
to her Sicilian home. 

“ I told you long ago, Everard, that I would 
not keep your inheritance, and I am only too glad 
to hand it back,” she said to her cousin. “ You’re 
going to do all the splendid things that I prophe- 
sied — take your degree, be a model landowner, 
get into Parliament, and help your country ! ” 

“ But I can’t do it alone ! A kingdom needs a 


Carmel’s Kingdom 295 

queen as well as a king, Carmel! The Chase 
would simply be an empty casket without you! 
You’re the very heart and soul of it all. I will let 
you go now, dear, for I see you’re quite deter- 
mined, but Carmel ! Carmel ! some day in the far 
future, if you think I have grown into anything 
like what you wish me to be, then I shall tell you 
that your throne is waiting for you here in Old 
England — the land of primroses and sweetbriar 
and true hearts, Carmel ! And I shall ask you to 
leave your Sicilian flowers and scented orange 
groves, and come back to claim your kingdom! ” 


THE END 











